


Into the Woods

by lycanvirgin (phoenixzeal)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, Humor, Injury, M/M, POV Stiles, Pre-Slash, Slow Build, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-29 22:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 101,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixzeal/pseuds/lycanvirgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life after Scott's death wasn't what Stiles expected it to be. Sometimes during sleepless nights he'd imagined the various ways that Scott might die and how he'd handle it if something like that ever happened. Not because he wanted Scott to die, absolutely not, but because after his mom's death he kept expecting the people he cared about to be taken from him. This wasn't how he'd imagined that Scott would die, and he would never have imagined that afterwards he'd be part of the popular group at school. Don't even get him started about the return of Derek Hale to Beacon Hills. All in all, this wasn't how Stiles had expected things to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Major character death in the form of Scott who dies in the first part but obviously Stiles thinks about him a lot throughout the fic. This is not at all because I hate Scott (though he annoys me sometimes), but because it was the first Teen Wolf plot bunny to jump into my head and it got stuck. The fic also mentions past Derek Hale/Kate Argent. Even though the fic starts up pretty much right at the beginning of the first episode, it contains spoilers for both seasons. Any additional warnings will be given in the notes for each part. 
> 
> This is the fic I wrote for NaNoWriMo 2012 and is my first foray into the Teen Wolf fandom (even though I previously posted a ficlet). It's unfinished and I haven't really touched it since last year, but it's my full intention to finish it. I'm just starting to post it now to kick-start myself into writing again. Hopefully editing the previous parts will also refresh my memories of what I've previously written.
> 
> This first part is very short but every part after this one is around 10K words. Right now I have five parts already written and I intend to post one part every month until I've finished writing it and then updates will hopefully come much quicker. So if long WIPs with slow updates scare you, you should probably wait until it's finished before you read. 
> 
> I don't have a beta at this time, but I will do my best to edit the fic and catch any mistakes. If you see any remaining mistakes, feel free to point them out to me so I can fix them. 
> 
> One last thing: If you're wondering how slow build the relationship between Stiles and Derek is, I can tell you that I currently have over 50K written and they're still not together but I'm definitely going to get those two fools together before the end of the fic.

Dragging Scott out into the woods at night in the dark to look for a corpse was the fucking stupidest thing that Stiles had ever done. The thing is, Stiles wasn't even sure that he wanted to see a dead body. He hadn't been allowed to see his mother's - his dad had thought that it would be too upsetting for him. Wouldn't want to upset a kid that had just lost his mother. 

Stiles thought that maybe if he saw a dead body for real, right in front of him, it might make things clearer somehow. It was a really stupid thought and it didn't even make any sense to himself. Then again, seeing a real dead body might be really cool. Getting caught by his dad while running around in the forest looking for a body was far less awesome. 

In the end he just wanted to go home, go to bed and forget about his stupid foray into the woods. He tried calling Scott who didn't pick up. Either Scott was angry at him or he was already at home in bed, sleeping. Stiles sent him a text message.

_Sorry, dude. Wasn't my best idea ever. I'll see you tomorrow._

Once the text was sent, Stiles set his phone on silent mode and got ready for bed. When he slipped underneath the covers and closed his eyes, he was planning how to make it up to Scott the next day. Everything would be normal again.

***

The next day was a nightmare. Sheriff Stilinski came into Stiles' bedroom in the morning. Stiles woke up to his dad sitting down on the edge of the bed and a hand on his shoulder. Even through half lidded and bleary eyes, Stiles could see the expression on his father's face and it made his insides turn cold. It was the same kind of expression the sheriff had had when Stiles' mom had become ill. 

"Dad?" Stiles' voice sounded small and scared even to his own ears. He felt like he was eight years old again, knowing that his world was about to change forever. "What's wrong?"

"In the woods last night while looking for the body," Sheriff Stilinski began, pinching the bridge of his nose, "we found Scott."

"Scott? Oh my god, is he okay?" Stiles scrambled to sit upright and looked at his dad with wide eyes, his heart beating almost impossibly fast. "Did he get hurt?"

Stiles should've made sure that Scott got home safely. Now Scott had probably broken a leg, or both of his legs, and spent hours in the forest without help. He'd probably managed to drop his phone and hadn't been able to call for help. Shit, Stiles was the worst friend ever. 

"It seems like he got attacked by some kind of animal. Stiles, Scott had an asthma attack and he didn't have his inhaler anywhere on him. I'm sorry, he... he didn't make it."

Stiles stared at his dad for almost an entire minute, uncomprehending. Didn't make it? Attacked by an animal. Asthma attack. Didn't make it. Stiles had dragged Scott along to see a body in the woods and now Scott was that body. He hadn't made it. Stiles had killed his best friend.

He practically fell off of his bed, struggling against the sheets that were tangled around his limbs. Crawling over the floor and finally getting to his feet just to sink down on all fours in the bathroom. He retched and the contents of his stomach left him in a sickening rush. He heard his dad approach but he held out a hand and shook his head. 

There was nothing more left in his to throw up but the big ball of guilt, but it lodged itself in his chest and took residence. It would stay there, his only companion because he'd killed his best and only friend. Stiles slumped down on the floor and curled up, hugging his knees to his chest. His dad cautiously moved closer to flush the toilet, and then he was lifting Stiles and dragged him back to the bed. 

"I killed him," Stiles whispered, barely audible. 

Apparently the sheriff realized that there was no point in arguing with Stiles right then. Instead he wrapped his arms around Stiles as tightly as he could and held onto him for hours, while Stiles stared straight ahead without seeing. The guilt ate up his insides and replaced everything he'd once been. Now he was just a killer.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the first part is ridiculously short, I decided to post the second part early. After this the updates really will be roughly once a month.
> 
> Warnings for this part: Stiles thinks about changing places with Scott and thinks that he should've been the one to die. He's not actually suicidal, though, but for those sensitive to such thoughts this can be a rough part to read. Stiles also has a panic attack.

Stiles' dad didn't make him go to the first day of school. He stayed at home together with Stiles, just holding him until things like eating and going to the bathroom became a necessity. Stiles stayed in his spot on the bed, though, just staring at the wall while the guilt churned inside of him. His dad tried to make him eat but it was a lost cause. Eventually he must have fallen asleep because he woke up the next day, not feeling any better. 

"Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski said, hovering in the doorway. He was dressed in his work clothes and looked really worried and uncomfortable. 

"I'm okay, dad," Stiles said, his voice sounding hollow. "Go to work."

"I've called the school to let them know that you won't be going today either. Just take it easy. Do you want me to call someone to ask them to stay with you?"

Stiles thought that there was no one left to call. He didn't have any other friends except for Scott and he couldn't imagine that Mrs. McCall would feel up to check on him. Even if there had been someone to call, Stiles wanted to be alone. He needed to be able to think things through without his dad constantly checking on him. 

"It's fine." Stiles didn't even attempt to smile reassuringly because he thought that it would have the opposite effect. "I can be alone. You have a lot to do with... everything."

Mentioning the body in the woods wouldn't be a good idea. Stiles thought that if he even said the word 'body' he would throw up again. Oh god, he'd killed Scott because he'd wanted to see half of a body. He choked down the panic that was threatening to come to the surface. His dad was looking at him with a worried expression that made him want to scream and throw things. It made him feel even worse because now he couldn't even appreciate his dad worrying about him. Fuck. He was the worst person ever. 

"I'll call in a couple of hours to make sure you're doing okay," Sheriff Stilinski said. "Make sure to eat something. Doesn't have to be something big as long as it's something." He took a step before pausing and adding, "I love you, son."

Stiles managed a weak smile and nodded, not able to say anything. The sheriff nodded brusquely and then he walked away. Stiles waited until he heard his dad close the front door before he visibly deflated. He couldn't think clearly, because all of his thoughts kept rushing through his head and were too fleeting for him to grasp onto. 

Finally he got out of bed because he couldn't stay still anymore. He went through the motions of getting ready as if it was a normal day. Stripping out of his pajamas, he stepped into the shower. The warm water momentarily soothed him until he remembered the sarcastic reply he'd given Scott the other night. Body of water. With a sound of disgust he turned off the water, barely rinsing the last suds of soap from his body. 

Before Stiles really knew what he was doing, he pulled on clean clothes and went to find his car keys. He searched through the entire house and couldn't find them. After a while he realized that his dad must have taken them. Maybe it wasn't the best idea for Stiles to drive in the state he was in, but he didn't really care. He walked out of the house and slammed the front door shut, locking it automatically and then headed for the forest. It could take all the time it wanted but he needed to be there. 

He took a route that was as empty of people as possible. If there was something he didn't need, it was to run into someone who knew about the situation. Technically he was probably not allowed to go into the woods. The body, the original one, hadn't been found yet and the cops were still searching. Stiles would be able to avoid them, though; they wouldn't search for the body where he was going because they already knew it wasn't there. Scott had been there. 

By the time Stiles reached the approximate location where he believed they'd found Scott, he was breathing heavily and his feet hurt from stumbling over too many roots and rocks. The spot was between where Stiles' dad had found him and Scott's house. It looked like every other damn place in the damn forest but Stiles just knew that this was the right place. He dropped down on all fours and started rummaging through the leaves. 

His dad had said that Scott had died of an asthma attack after the animal bite, but Stiles was sure that Scott had had his inhaler on him. Scott always had his inhaler on him. So if Stiles could find the inhaler then everything would be okay. Everything would just be a nightmare that he could wake up from, and Scott would be there. They'd go to the first day of school, go to the first lacrosse practice of the season and get benched as always. 

How was it even possible for there to be so many leaves on the ground? Even though it was a forest, it shouldn't be so difficult to find an inhaler. It wasn't like it blended in amongst the earthy colors of dry leaves and dirt. How fucking difficult could it be to find it? 

Stiles' sight blurred and he sniffled, gasping for air. He'd been rummaging through the leaves for what felt like hours. His knees were sore and his hands and sleeves were covered in dirt and mud. A worm crawled on his hand but he didn't bother to shrug it off. He didn't stop searching even when his sight was completely blurred by tears. Crawling forwards to cover more ground, he blindly ran his hands over the ground, through the piles of leaves. 

Suddenly his hand met thin air when he expected there to be ground, and he tumbled down a slope without a chance to brace himself. He came to a stop at the bottom of the slope, hitting his back against a fallen tree and getting the breath knocked out of him. It wasn't like he'd been able to breathe properly even before the tumble down, and he desperately tried to suck air into his lungs. 

After what felt like forever, Stiles could finally draw a stuttering breath. His heart was racing and he could hear a shrill beeping in his ears. He could smell the dirt and molten leaves, and he thought that that was all Scott would ever smell in the future unless he could find the inhaler. If he could just find the inhaler everything would be okay. 

Stiles curled up on his side, one hand digging into the earth as his breath came out in shuddering sobs. He was completely useless, not even able to find an inhaler to save his best friend. It should have been him; he should have been the one to die. If he'd died, Scott would surely find a way to save him because unlike Stiles, Scott was worth something. 

Scott was stronger despite his asthma, better at lacrosse and he was able to draw the attention of people in a good way. Stiles was either ignored or told to shut up when he was being his annoying ADHD self. Scott would have saved him but he couldn't do anything right. 

Black spots were beginning to appear in Stiles' vision as he still couldn't breathe properly. He thought that he might actually die there instead of saving Scott like he'd intended to. At least they'd be together either way. 

Then a strong hand closed around his arm and pulled him up, his back leaning against the fallen tree. He saw a blurry black shape in front of him and big hands were rubbing up and down his arms. 

"Breathe," a low voice instructed. "Can you? Are you asthmatic?" 

"No... Scott," Stiles choked out and a wretched sob escaped him. 

"Alright." The owner of the voice grabbed one of Stiles' hands and placed it on his chest, right over the steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his breath. "Try to breathe slowly, match my breaths."

Stiles tried to do as the voice had told him to, slowly making his short and stuttering breaths more even and slow. He closed his eyes and focused on just feeling the heartbeat underneath his palm until he was breathing normally. It didn't even cross his mind how weird the situation was until he could think clearly again. A stranger was helping him breathe in the middle of the forest. Why hadn't Stiles been able to do the same for Scott? 

"Are you okay?" 

"No," Stiles said and opened his eyes, looking at the stranger and had to gasp for breath again. 

The stranger who'd previously only been a black blur turned out to be less of a stranger than Stiles had thought. Obviously he'd grown up a lot in the years since he'd left Beacon Hills but there was no doubt in Stiles' mind who he was. 

"Derek Hale."

Derek looked kind of startled before he quickly assumed a more neutral expression. Except neutral on Derek looked like a mix of anger and sadness. Stiles could relate. Though his own expression was probably far less attractive with lots of snot and red blotches. Then Stiles felt like punching himself because how could he think about someone's attractiveness when he still hadn't saved Scott? 

"I found this," Derek said and held up the inhaler in Stiles' line of sight. 

Stiles' eyes widened and he snatched the inhaler out of Derek's hand, clutching it to his chest. His heartbeat became more rapid again because even though he'd found the inhaler, he knew that it wouldn't save Scott. He'd clung onto the idea because it gave him something to do, a purpose, but now he was back to being helpless. There was nothing he could do to bring Scott back. Scott was really gone. 

Tears trickled down his face as he kept clutching the inhaler tightly to his chest. Derek was still crouched in front of him. Normally he would've found it mortifying to cry like this in front of someone, but he was beyond caring. At least he tried to keep his breathing even in between the sobs. He didn't want to make Derek feel obligated to help him again. 

Derek placed a warm hand on Stiles' shoulder, offering silent support. It made Stiles feel better and worse at the same time. Better because someone was there for him, someone who wasn't his father and he'd have to face every day. Worse because a few years ago Derek had lost almost his entire family, and here Stiles was completely breaking down. It wasn't fair to add any more problems to Derek's life. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered and wiped some of his tears with his sleeve. 

"You're Sheriff Stilinski's kid, aren't you?" Derek asked, completely ignoring the apology. 

"Stiles. We've met before. I mean. You wouldn't remember." Stiles almost mentioned the fire but thankfully managed to stop himself in time. "It was years ago."

"Six years."

"I thought it was more like ten," Stiles said and looked at Derek with a confused frown. Then he blinked, realizing that Derek might actually remember him. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Derek said and Stiles couldn't miss the bitterness in his voice. The bitterness was directed at Derek himself, though, not Stiles. "Come on."

Derek grabbed Stiles' upper arms and abruptly hauled him to his feet, leaving Stiles flailing a bit and he grabbed onto Derek's shoulders to keep himself from falling on his ass. He quickly took his hands away from Derek when he received a quite vicious glare. Derek kept his grip on one of Stiles' arms and started leading him through the forest. 

"Where are we going?" Stiles asked, thinking that it probably wasn't a good idea to blindly follow a stranger even if that stranger was Derek Hale. "Do you even know where we're going?"

"Yes," Derek replied, because he was clearly a very talkative person. 

If Stiles focused on the almost painful grip that Derek had on his arm the emotional pain wasn't as bad, though. It gave him something else to think about for just a moment. Perhaps he didn't deserve to think about something else than failing to save his best friend. Though he couldn't help if Derek was a highly distracting person, or that he hadn't taken his Adderall and his mind was all over the place. Like why Derek was back in town now when he hadn't set a foot there since the fire. Or how Derek could be so helpful and nice in one minute, and then turn into someone with an almost deadly glare the next. 

"Hey, so, not that I'm not grateful or anything but I should probably go home," Stiles said. "So you can let go of me now and I'll go home and you won't have to bother with me anymore."

"You walked here, right?" Derek glanced at Stiles.

"Yeah, I did walk here. And then crawled. But mostly walked."

"I'll drive you home."

"You've parked your car in the middle of the woods?" Stiles asked.

He regretted doing so as they walked out into a clearing where the burned out ruin of the Hale house sat eerily in the middle. Stiles had never been there before, not before the fire or after it. He wished that Derek hadn't led him there. Now he was stuck with images of what it must have been like, being caught in the house while it burned down. He imagined the screaming and then imagined being one of the few left behind, still alive. Though he already had a pretty clear idea of what that was like. 

"Get into the car," Derek said and interrupted Stiles' painful thoughts.

He looked away from the remaining shell of the house and his gaze landed on the car. The car which happened to be a gorgeous black Camaro that made Stiles' mouth hang open. For a second he thought that he had to tell Scott about this, but then realization hit him again and made it difficult to breathe for a second. 

"Stiles." Derek sounded annoyed and he was glaring at Stiles impatiently. 

"Yeah, right, sorry." Stiles quickly walked to the Camaro but then looked down at his very dirty hands and clothes. "Um, I'm going to ruin the upholstery if I sit in it with all of this crap on my clothes."

Derek sighed and opened the car door for Stiles. "Then try not to touch anything."

Stiles decided that it was best not to try Derek's patience anymore because the glare was reaching new levels of deadly. He got into the car and was surprised when Derek crouched down to buckle his seatbelt.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked, his mouth hanging open again.

"You were worried about getting things dirty," Derek said and stood up straight, closing the door.

He walked around to the other side of the car and got into the driver's seat. By the time he'd buckled his own seatbelt and started the car to drive away from the ruin, Stiles' mouth was still hanging open. He thought that he might break down and sob hysterically again because everything was just too much for him. None of this could be real. He'd wake up in his bed and he'd go to the first day of school and Scott would be there. That was more believable than being in a Camaro with Derek Hale. 

"Just breathe, Stiles," Derek said and snapped Stiles out of his oncoming panic. 

"I am breathing, it's just... you know. How can this be real?" Stiles flailed aimlessly with his hands and then let them rest on his lap again. "This has to be a nightmare. I mean, this part isn't so bad, but an animal attack? How can he have been attacked by an animal like that? There's no way he'd ever drop his inhaler. I don't understand."

"Breathe. I am not explaining to the sheriff how I let his son die."

"I am breathing!" Stiles shouted and then deflated, taking deep breaths. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's my fault. You're just trying to help. Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry," Derek muttered.

"Sorry."

Stiles cowered as far away as he could at the glare Derek directed at him. It really wasn't fair because Stiles was doing his best to keep it together. He hated showing his weakness in front of people. That was why he was always talking at full speed and made sarcastic jokes about everything. He hadn't let anyone see just how much he was hurting since his mom died. 

Now Scott was gone too and he was breaking at the seams. All of the emotions he'd kept inside of him in the six or seven years since his mom had died wanted to come flooding out. The weight of two deaths on his shoulders was too much for him to bear. 

Stiles barely noticed that Derek had parked outside of his house, until Derek opened the passenger door and unbuckled his seatbelt. He got out on trembling legs and stared at Derek whose glare was still in full force. The inhaler was still clutched in Stiles' hand and he squeezed it as he used his free hand to pat Derek's shoulder. The glare renewed intensity, and Stiles quickly ducked around Derek and headed towards the front door. He turned around as he reached the front steps and looked at Derek who was about to get back inside the Camaro. 

"Hey, Derek," Stiles said and Derek looked up at him. "Thank you."

Derek nodded gruffly and got inside the car, driving away at a very illegal speed. Stiles wouldn't report him. He turned around and unlocked the door. His shoes were muddy and he kicked them off to carry them back to his room. He didn't want his dad to find out that he'd gone outside. Once he was in his room, he stripped out of all of his clothes and threw them into the laundry basket. The inhaler got its own place on his nightstand. 

Stiles got into the shower and turned the heat up until the water was almost scalding. He scrubbed his body clean and with such force that his skin was practically a bright red. Even though he was clean and smelled of soap, he still felt dirty. It was like the earth and the worms and the leaves had sunk into his skin, burrowing underneath the surface. Scott would be lowered into the ground, surrounded by earth. Stiles carried the soil within him, dirtying him and slowly choked him as it filled up his lungs. 

He sunk to his knees and rested his forehead against the wall, letting the water pelt down on his back. The water had turned freezing cold by the time he got out of the shower and wrapped himself in a big towel. Rain had started pouring down outside and Stiles curled up on his bed, still naked. Eventually he would have to eat something so that his dad wouldn't have to worry even more, but for now he just needed some rest. He looked at the inhaler on his nightstand and thought of Scott and Mrs. McCall and his own mom and Derek. 

The body in the woods. They still hadn't found it even though they'd been looking for days. The forest wasn't really all that large so Stiles wondered where the other half had gone. Maybe the killer had kept it. Perhaps the killer had a big, vicious dog and that's what had attacked Scott. Stiles had always had a soft spot for dogs but now he hated them with every bone in his body. Though still not as much as he hated himself. 

***

Wednesday Stiles decided to go back to school. Perhaps the mind numbing drone of education would be enough to lessen the pain somewhat. At least he didn't have to be alone with his thoughts all day. His thoughts were not his friends. The sheriff was concerned about Stiles going back to school, but Stiles could also tell that his dad was relieved. Maybe because at school there were people who could make sure that he didn't hurt himself.

What Stiles hadn't thought of was the fact that every single person at school would stare at him with pitying eyes. The walk through the hallways in the morning was an entirely new form of torture. He'd always wanted people to notice him, but now that they did he just wanted to run and hide. How was he supposed to be distracted from his emotional pain when the look in everyone's eyes kept reminding him of it?

Sitting down in the classroom was a relief, because then he could stare at his desk or at the whiteboard and ignore everything else. He was so focused on not looking at anyone else that he didn't notice the new girl in the seat in front of him until she turned around. She smiled at him and he kind of just stared because she was beautiful and had adorable dimples. Her hair was pretty much perfect - but not as perfect as Lydia's - and girls like that didn't pay attention to Stiles. Ever. 

"Hi, do you happen to have an extra pen that I can borrow?" she asked. "I keep forgetting to bring my own." Her smile turned embarrassed. 

"I, uh, let me check," Stiles said and rummaged around in his bag, finding a pen he'd thought he'd lost ages ago. 

He handed it to her with a flourish and she giggled. It was nice to have at least one person who didn't look at him like he'd lost a huge chunk of his own body. Which was actually kind of what it felt like, but he didn't want anyone's pity. This new girl, who obviously didn't know that he used to be Stiles-and-Scott, made him feel almost normal for the first time since his dad had told him. Maybe he didn't deserve to feel normal but he'd take it. A few seconds of normality couldn't be so bad. 

"I'm Allison," the new girl said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

"Stiles. That's me, I'm Stiles. Hi." Stiles felt like slapping his forehead but the girl, Allison, giggled again. 

"It's nice to meet you, Stiles."

Before Stiles had a chance to say anything else, class started and Allison turned around to pay attention to the teacher. Stiles stared at the back of her head for a moment and then tried to focus on actual class. It was difficult because absolutely everything reminded him of Scott. Things the teacher said, the classroom in itself and the occasional pitying glance thrown his way. He tapped his pen against his thigh and wriggled in his seat, accepting that there was no way of escaping the memories or the guilt. 

When it was time for lunch break, Stiles realized that he had no idea what any of his classes had been about. He would go from having almost straight A's to failing all of his classes if he kept this up. That was just not an option because the disappointment on his dad's face would just be too much to bear. He swore to himself to start paying attention to his classes if he survived lunch break. 

Everyone in the cafeteria was seated in their usual groups. Stiles grabbed lunch and then stood hesitating, not sure where to sit. Usually he'd just go wherever Scott went. They weren't total outcasts but they weren't exactly people's top choice for whom to hang out with. Stiles didn't feel like sitting at a table where everyone would just look at him pityingly either. 

"Hey, Stiles!" someone called out from a table near where Stiles was standing.

He turned his head and realized that it was Allison who'd called out to him. She smiled at him and gestured for him to come closer. He did and it was only then he saw who she was sitting with. Lydia, Jackson and Danny. There was no way that he was going to sit with them. 

"Come on, sit with us," Allison said with another one of her adorable dimpled smiles. 

Stiles plopped down at the head of the table, cursing his own traitorous legs for bringing him there. He looked at Lydia and Jackson who were practically in each other's laps and felt a pang in his chest. His crush on Lydia was very ill-advised and had gone on for years. She'd been together with Jackson for months now but it never got easier to see them together. Stiles quickly looked to the other side of the table where Allison sat, still smiling at him. Danny sat next to her and didn't even acknowledge Stiles' existence. It was still better than sitting alone or together with people who'd want to say how sorry they were about Scott. 

"Thank you for letting me borrow your pen," Allison said. "I'll give it back to you at the end of the day, I promise."

"There's no need," Stiles said. "I mean, you're welcome. Just, I have a lot of pens, you know? So you can have it. It's not like I really need it or remembered that I have it in the first place so I won't miss it."

"Um, okay." Allison scrunched up her nose at Stiles' rant but in an amused way. "Thanks."

"Hey man," Jackson said to Stiles who actually almost fell out of his seat, startled. "Why haven't you been to lacrosse practice?"

Stiles blinked and stared at Jackson because didn't he know? Everyone in Beacon Hills had to know what had happened to Scott. Maybe it was actually possible that Jackson was enough of an emotionless douche bag that he didn't think losing one's best friend was a big deal. It made Stiles wonder how Danny put up with him. On the other hand, it was actually a good thing because Stiles could pretend that everything was normal. Bottling everything up and keeping it to himself was what Stiles did, and hanging out with the most coldhearted people at school would help him do that. 

"I'm probably going to quit, I'm always on the bench anyway," Stiles said, shrugging. 

"If you quit it's going to seriously lower the morale of the team," Jackson said. 

Stiles' eyes became comically wide because there was no way that Jackson was being nice to him. It just wasn't something that happened in real life. Sometimes it did in his daydreams, in which Jackson said that Stiles could have Lydia because he obviously loved and deserved her more. Somehow Stiles really couldn't see that happening in reality.

"I mean, who else is going to make everyone look really good in comparison?" Jackson continued and Stiles was no longer shocked. "You should stay on the team."

"Well, thank you for those sweet words, Jackson, but I think quitting would be the best thing to do," Stiles said. 

"No, you should do what Jackson says," Lydia said. "Every team needs a loser to make the winners look so much better."

"Okay, I'll stay on the team," Stiles said and immediately felt like banging his head against the table. 

It was perhaps the first time that Lydia had even acknowledged that Stiles even existed, let alone spoken directly to him. Obeying her command was a kneejerk reaction. He really didn't need to go lacrosse practice to feel even worse about himself. Life really sucked. 

"Don't be mean to Stiles," Allison said, looking concerned. "I'm sure he can't be that bad."

"Oh, no, I am," Stiles said. "Don't worry about it, Allison. I'm just, like, a bunch of limbs that were glued on and don't really fit together so I trip myself all the time. It's not pretty." 

He smiled at Allison and glanced at Lydia who was looking between the two of them as if she was planning something. Whatever it was, Stiles wasn't sure that he wanted to know. 

"If you say so," Allison said. "I still don't think it's fair to be so mean about it."

"In case you haven't realized it by now, Jackson is the biggest douche of all douches. He's the king of the douches. I don't listen to anything he says because he doesn't even have half a brain."

"I'm sitting right here, Stilinski," Jackson said, glaring at Stiles. 

Normally Stiles might have been intimidated by it, but right now he found that he didn't really care. At least Jackson didn't act like Stiles was going to break if someone even breathed too close to him. Though Jackson might actually wish that that were the case, because he looked like he wanted to break Stiles into tiny little pieces. 

"Yes, I observed that with my eyeballs," Stiles said and made an actual attempt to eat something. So far he'd only poked around in his food with a fork. 

"Why is he sitting with us?" Jackson asked the table at large. 

"Because Allison asked him to," Lydia said with a sweet smile that was actually kind of terrifying. 

"Doesn't he have any friends of his own?"

"Jackson, his friend died, remember?" Danny said quietly. 

Stiles immediately wanted to sink through the floor and live in a burrow underground the rest of his life. Allison looked between Danny and Stiles with huge, sad eyes. She looked kind of like she'd just run over a dog with her car. 

"Oh." Jackson didn't look sorry or ashamed, but at least he didn't glare at Stiles anymore. 

"When did..." Allison frowned and then seemed to make the connection. "The one in the woods this weekend, that was your friend?" She sounded hesitant and worried.

"Yeah, yes, Scott is... was my best friend and he died last Sunday in the woods," Stiles said, sounding way more cheerful than appropriate. He couldn't help it, if he made it sound like it affected him he might have started to cry in the middle of the cafeteria. "The cat's out of the bag. I don't want to talk about it."

Allison looked like she might actually start to cry and she hadn't even known Scott. It was unfair and there was a lump in Stiles' throat. He swallowed heavily and pushed his tray further away from himself, he wouldn't be able to eat anyway. 

"An animal attacked him, right?" Lydia asked as if she was talking about the weather. "I wonder what kind of animal it was. Maybe it was a mountain lion."

"I heard it was a cougar," Jackson said.

"A cougar is the same thing as a mountain lion," Lydia said, then seemed to realize that she wasn't supposed to be intelligent and added, "Isn't it?"

Jackson shrugged and looked like he didn't really care either way. What had been a relief from having to deal with even more thoughts of Scott's death was now turning into a nightmare. Stiles wanted to get up and run away from the entire situation, but he couldn't make his legs work. 

"Hey Stiles," Danny said. "We're supposed to be lab partners in chemistry this year. Harris got it into his head that we can't be paired up with our friends."

Stiles could have kissed Danny out of gratitude. He smiled and might possibly have looked deranged and far too happy about it. Danny just shrugged at him, as if he wanted to say that it had been his fault that the conversation had become about Scott in the first place so it wasn't a big deal. 

"I'm pretty sure that I can make Harris make Allison and I lab partners anyway," Lydia said. "He won't be able to refuse."

"What about me?" Jackson asked. "I'm stuck with a complete nerd."

"Maybe he can help you with your grades, Jackson," Lydia said. "If you fail a class you won't be able to be on the team."

"My grades aren't that bad."

"Well, stop whining, it's not attractive."

If the situation had been different, Stiles would've been positively gleeful about the fact that Jackson and Lydia were arguing. As it were, Stiles was just grateful that no one's attention was on him anymore. He bounced his leg and poked around in his food, making it look even more disgusting than it had in the first place. 

"Stiles," Allison said softly and he reluctantly looked at her. There was a hesitant smile on her face and her eyes still looked sad, but at least they weren't filled with pity. "Lydia is having a party on Friday, would you like to come along?"

"Oh, I don't know if that's a good idea," Stiles said.

Lydia broke out of her argument with Jackson to say, "You should come, Stiles."

"Okay." Stiles had to curse inwardly once again for being such a pushover but Lydia had actually said his name. "Okay, I guess I'll come for a short while at least."

"Great." Allison's smile brightened a bit. 

Stiles couldn't find it in him to resent her, not when she looked at him like that. He had difficulties breathing when he realized that it was because she reminded him a little bit of Scott. She had the same kind of clueless innocence and adorable brown eyes. Scott had also had a habit of looking at Stiles with a mix of confusion and amusement, just like Allison had earlier. 

"I really won't stay for long, though," Stiles said, trying to get his breathing under control again.

"That's okay, as long as you'll be there," Allison said. 

Jackson and Lydia's argument had somehow turned into a make out session, but Lydia still had the time to give them a shrewd glance. Stiles was highly uncomfortable and was glad when they had to get back to class. He had never minded school that much, at least not since he'd been diagnosed and given Adderall and focusing was easier, but now he almost wanted to hug his desk and kiss it. Thankfully he refrained from doing so, because that might have led to him being sent to a psychiatrist. Talking about his feelings was pretty much the last thing he wanted to do.

The rest of the school day went by in kind of a blur, but at least he managed to pay enough attention to take notes. He also got a bunch of stuff that he needed to catch up on. Apparently the teachers hadn't gone easy on their students even during the first days of school.

Stiles wanted to go home and just sleep but instead he'd have to do a bunch of homework. He headed towards the parking lot and then realized that he'd taken the bus to school. The sheriff still didn't feel comfortable with letting him drive and had said as much. Sighing, he headed towards the bus stop and saw the bus drive away right in front of his eyes. He stared after it and sighed again. Fantastic. 

Slowly he started walking and stared down at the sidewalk. Would it be too much to ask for at least one thing to go right? He got that it was his fault that Scott died and that he should suffer for it, but he was just so tired. Sleep didn't exactly come easily and when it did, he had terrifying nightmares. 

On top of that he was now obligated to go to a party where even more people could either stare at him, or treat him like air. Being treated like air was preferable but with Allison there it would be uncomfortable. It was creepy how much she reminded him of Scott now when he'd realized that they were kind of similar. Not that absolutely everything didn't already remind him of Scott. 

Sheriff Stilinski was already at home when Stiles finally made it there. He was waiting in the kitchen with bags of takeout food. His eyes were tired and sad but he smiled when Stiles came into the kitchen. 

"Hey kiddo, how was school?" he asked, trying to hide his concern because he'd caught onto how uncomfortable it made Stiles.

"It was alright," Stiles said and practically collapsed down on a chair. "Sort of like being transported into an alternate universe. I hope you stayed away from the really fatty foods," he added as he reached for one of the takeout bags, checking what was inside it. 

"Don't worry, I can take care of myself," Sheriff Stilinski said. 

"I seriously doubt that," Stiles muttered under his breath but was pleased enough with what he found in the bags. 

They didn't bother with plates because neither of them would be particularly keen to wash the dishes. There was silence for a while as they began eating. Stiles could feel his dad looking at him from time to time but stubbornly looked down at the food. His dad had bought some of his favorites but he could barely even taste it. 

"How was it really at school?" the sheriff asked at last. 

"I don't know. Strange." Stiles sighed. "There's a new girl, Allison. She asked to borrow a pen and then she wanted me to sit with her and her friends at lunch."

"That's nice."

"Her friends are Jackson and Lydia."

"Oh." Sheriff Stilinski frowned and put down his fork. "I guess that must have been awkward. This thing you have for that Lydia girl, is it still a thing?"

Stiles looked at his dad with a 'duh' expression on his face. "Of course it is, she's practically a goddess. Have you seen her hair? And she's really smart, though she acts stupid for Jackson's sake but I don't understand why. Like, she can have absolutely anything or anyone she wants so why would she want a stupid douche like Jackson?"

"Love works in mysterious ways."

"She can't love him, I mean, he's so... Jackson."

The sheriff shrugged and picked up his fork again to finish eating his meal. Stiles stared at what was left of his but didn't feel like eating. He put down his fork and got up from his seat.

"I have a lot of homework to take care of so I'll go do that now," he said.

"You haven't finished eating," Sheriff Stilinski said. 

"I ate a lot at lunch," Stiles lied and headed towards the stairs. "I'll eat a fruit or something later."

Stiles was pretty sure that his dad didn't believe him, but the sheriff didn't say a word. Once in his room, Stiles threw his backpack next to the bed and himself on the bed. He really didn't feel like doing homework. That could wait, right? He closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep. 

***

He was running through the forest. Scott's inhaler was clutched in his hand. Behind him he could hear the footfalls of something very large. Its loud breaths and growls let Stiles know that it was right at his heels. He tried running even faster but he tripped over a root and fell. 

Claws cut into his calves and he screamed. The monster dragged him over the ground and he desperately scrambled for purchase with his free hand. His grip on the inhaler didn't loosen but somehow he dropped it anyway.

"No, please, I need that," he gasped out. "Please, I have to bring it to Scott. Let me go."

The monster didn't heed his pleas, only continued dragging him across the ground. Stiles started kicking and grabbed a hold of a sapling to stop the beast from dragging him any farther. He managed to free himself from the claws and turned around on his back, wanting to see his attacker. There was nothing. 

He got to his feet on trembling legs and turned around to go back for the inhaler. Turning around made him stand face to face with Derek Hale and he took a stumbling step backwards. He almost fell but Derek grabbed his shoulders and steadied him. 

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked.

Derek opened his mouth and Scott's inhaler was inside. He spit it out and claws dug into Stiles' shoulders. Suddenly Derek was the monster, baring his fangs and sunk them into Stiles' throat. 

Stiles woke up with a gasp. Disoriented he looked at his watch and saw that he'd only slept for about an hour. He groaned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. What he really wanted to do was to strip out of his clothes and go back to sleep, but he really did have to do his homework. Sluggishly he made his way over to his desk, dumping the books out of his bag. 

"At least it beats nightmares," he said to himself and set to work. 

***

Things went back to normal on Thursday, at least as normal as they could be during the circumstances. Or so Stiles had thought when he stepped into school and no one stared at him. Now that they'd done their obligatory pitying and curious staring for one day it was no longer needed. Stiles was yesterday's news and people moved on. The callousness of teenagers was a fascinating thing to observe really. Or it would have been if it hadn't been Stiles' best friend who died. 

Everything felt considerably less normal when he approached his locker and Allison was waiting for him. He'd thought that Jackson or Lydia would set Allison straight about who was cool enough to speak to. Stiles was definitely not in that category. Even so, Allison was waiting for him with a pretty smile. Then she kept talking to him, and even Jackson and Lydia acknowledged his existence in the classes they had together. 

During lunch break he got to sit with them again. He got away with being uncharacteristically silent, only answering direct questions - most of them made by Allison. The only one who didn't seem to have been replaced by some kind of clone or a copy of themselves from another universe was Danny. He barely said a word to Stiles, even though they were lab partners in chemistry and were actually required to speak to each other. 

Friday was pretty much the same as Thursday, but with more reminders of the party that was to take place that evening. Stiles didn't really know what anyone had been talking about. He didn't even pay all that much attention to Lydia, which was a sure sign that something was wrong with him. No one noticed, though, because they hadn't exactly hung out with him before Scott's death. 

After lacrosse practice, which Stiles had spent mostly on the bench as a punishment for missing the first days of practice, he slowly got changed in the locker room. No one was supposed to pay attention to him there, and he was supposed to be able to let his guard down a little bit. It was tiring always having to look like he was okay when he really wasn't. Of course he couldn't get alone time even when he was naked. Jackson came to stand beside him, thumping his back and almost sent him face first into his locker. 

"Watch it, douche bag," Stiles said and glared at Jackson but without any real heat behind it. 

"Yeah, whatever," Jackson said with a dismissive shrug. "So, what are you planning to wear to the party?"

"Uh, I wasn't really planning anything?" Stiles frowned. "Can't I just wear what I usually wear?"

Jackson ran his gaze over Stiles' body as if he was actually wearing what he usually wore. Stiles definitely didn't, though, because the only thing he was wearing was a towel around his waist. He squirmed under Jackson's gaze and wanted to crawl into the locker and close the door behind him. Unlike Jackson who was built sort of like a Greek god, Stiles was gangly and didn't have ridiculously defined abs. Not that he'd been overly concerned about his body, especially not lately, but it was uncomfortable to practically get checked out. Though he was pretty sure that Jackson was straight. 

"Yeah, no, you can't," Jackson said. "It's one thing to be seen with you in school while you're wearing your nerd clothes with tacky prints, but at a party? Dude, you've got to dress up, especially if you want to impress the girls."

Stiles gave Jackson a blank look. "I'm pretty sure I won't be able to impress any girls no matter how I dress."

"You're right, never mind." 

"I'm so glad that we're sort of friends now," Stiles said sarcastically and Jackson grinned as if he'd actually said it sincerely. 

"Everyone wants to be my friend, Stilinski. You _should_ be glad."

Jackson stood and stared at Stiles in silence for a far too long moment. Stiles glanced down at his still naked body and then looked at Jackson again.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd let me change without staring at me, dude," he said.

Jackson nodded and went to talk to Danny who was changing without caring about if anyone stared at him. Stiles might have stared at Danny's butt for a few seconds, but who wouldn't? Even straight dudes like Stiles had to admit that it was a nice butt. He quickly got changed and escaped from the locker room before he could get assaulted by Jackson again. 

A couple of years ago he'd wanted to be included in the popular crowd, but now that he sort of was it was just weird. The reason for even being included in the popular crowd really sucked too. He was pretty certain that it would never have happened if Scott had still been alive. Stiles wanted Scott to be alive more than anything. 

Sheriff Stilinski still wouldn't let Stiles drive the jeep. Stiles didn't really know why; he thought that he'd done a pretty good job of behaving like he didn't want to drive into a tree and kill himself. He'd momentarily thought about it but he didn't actually want to die. Not really. He couldn't do that to the people he'd leave behind. Or person now that the only one he had was his dad. 

He managed to catch the bus home this time. When he got home he went straight to the kitchen to get started on cooking. Except the sheriff was already there with more takeout food. Stiles narrowed his eyes as he sat down at the kitchen table. 

"Let's not make a habit of this," he said.

"It can't hurt too much for just one week," the sheriff said. "Mrs. McCall called."

"It never gets old to hear that," Stiles said, trying to cover the lurch in his stomach at hearing the name. "McCall called. It really makes you wonder about some last names, doesn't it? Not that we have the most normal last name ever but at least 'Stilinski called' doesn't sound like a bad joke. Except maybe our last name in itself is like a bad joke."

"Stiles," the sheriff said, sounding weary to the bone. "The funeral is set for Tuesday. Do you want to go?"

Stiles didn't _want_ to go to his best friend's funeral. He didn't want for his best friend to be dead. It wouldn't do any good to say that, though, so he just nodded and set to work on eating his food. Every bite seemed to grow in his mouth and swallowing was painful, but under the watchful gaze of his father he ate everything. 

"I have to get ready for the party," he said when he'd finally eaten it all. He felt like he needed to throw up, but he took deep breaths to hopefully avoid it. 

"You're going to a party?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, frown firmly in place.

"Yeah, didn't I tell you? Allison asked me to come and Lydia agreed with her. I think Jackson wanted me to wear something a bit less nerdy so I guess I should try. They seem to kind of be my friends now and I guess that makes me obligated to make an effort."

"Do you want to be their friends? Are they treating you right?"

"Dad, stop making it sound like I'm in an abusive relationship or something. It's fine, they're fine. I want to go to the party."

His dad nodded slowly but the frown was still present on his face. "I guess you'd better get ready then. I'm working late tonight but I still expect you to be at home at a decent hour."

"I will be, don't worry," Stiles said and tried for a reassuring smile but the sheriff looked more pained than reassured. 

Stiles took that as his queue to escape upstairs. He stared into his closet and realized that all he had were plaid shirts, t-shirts with ridiculous and offensive prints and jeans in various states of worn out. What should he wear to the funeral? The suit that he'd worn to his mother's funeral was tiny and definitely wouldn't fit. Maybe it would be okay to wear a black t-shirt and black jeans together with a black hoodie. It wasn't like Scott would care. Stiles sighed and slammed the closet door shut, banging his forehead against the surface. He couldn't do this. 

A couple of hours later he was on his way to the party. He'd asked his dad for the keys to the jeep but the sheriff still hadn't acquiesced. Maybe that was actually a good idea considering that there might be alcohol at the party. Stiles knew that his dad, being the sheriff and all, didn't even want to consider his son drinking while underage but he also knew that it was a possibility. There was no way that Stiles wanted to drink alcohol, though, not tonight. 

While he was walking to the party, a car slowed down and finally stopped. He casually approached it, and when he bent to look in through the window Allison was smiling at him. 

She lowered the window. "Hi, Stiles. Do you want a ride?"

"That'd be nice, thanks." Stiles got into the car, feeling very grateful because he'd done way too much walking lately. 

"I should've asked you if you needed someone to come pick you up. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, you couldn't know. I was hoping that my dad was going to give me back the keys to my jeep, but apparently he didn't want me to even have the possibility to drink and drive. He hasn't let me drive since... Anyway, it's not like I'm going to drink alcohol in the first place and I'm way too responsible to drink and drive. My dad is the sheriff and I mostly avoid doing illegal stuff. Have to set an example, you know."

"Mostly?" Allison asked, wrinkling her nose in an unfairly adorable way, and of course that was what she chose to focus on.

"In a small town like this there isn't much to do, so of course every teenager is bound to steal their parents' alcohol to get stupidly drunk at least once," Stiles said with sweeping hand gestures that even he wasn't sure of the meaning of. "You lived in San Francisco before moving here, right?"

"Yeah, but not for long. We keep moving around a lot."

"Why move to Beacon Hills, though? It isn't exactly..." Stiles had been about to say that it wasn't particularly exciting, but then things rushed back to him again and it hadn't felt right. "It's not San Francisco."

"My aunt Kate used to live here," Allison said. "Maybe you remember her. Kate Argent?"

"Sorry, no, I don't think so. Against all legends about small towns, everyone doesn't actually know everyone else in Beacon Hills. There are more familiar faces than unfamiliar ones, sure, but I don't know the names of everyone or remember people who've moved away." Unless they happened to have had almost their entire family die in a fire and were named Derek Hale. Then Stiles remembered them. 

They arrived at the party where people were already having a great time. Stiles already felt like running away at the sight of dancing, happy people. Allison had hooked her arm through his, though, and was dragging him towards were Lydia was standing pressed against Jackson. 

"Oh, hi, Allison," Lydia said with a bright smile that faded slightly as she looked at Stiles. "Hi, Stiles."

"You made an effort," Jackson said, looking at Stiles' shirt and tie. "A terrible effort."

"It's not like everyone's got money enough to buy designer clothes and have seriously unfair genetics, you ass," Stiles said and then winced when he realized that he'd actually implied that Jackson was hot. 

"Thanks, dude," Jackson said and smiled at Stiles.

Stiles was definitely caught in some alternate universe where everything was a nightmare. He felt vaguely nauseated, especially when Jackson and Lydia started making out right in front of him and Allison. 

"Okay, I think we should probably leave them alone," Allison said and Stiles nodded in agreement. 

That was how Stiles ended up in a corner with a cup of nonalcoholic beverage in his hand. Allison had been asked to dance by a guy Stiles wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. She'd asked him if it was okay and he'd nodded and shooed her away, into the arms of the random guy. 

He really didn't want to be at the party. Everything was loud and everyone looked obnoxiously happy as they danced or sucked face with some other person. It wasn't like he expected everyone to be unhappy all the time, but he didn't want to have to witness other people's happiness. He thought that if Scott had been there they'd have sat in a corner somewhere, drinking and mocking everyone else. Or at least Stiles would have been mocking everyone while Scott would listen and laugh. Maybe they would have tried asking some girls to dance with them and be shot down. 

It would have been normal and fun and not like this. The music was too loud and felt like it was digging into Stiles' ears, trying to crush them. People's laughter was too sharp and made him irrationally angry. His heart pounded along with the music and it was too fast. Breathing was becoming difficult and people were everywhere. He searched with his gaze for Allison and she was still dancing. Jackson and Lydia were against a pillar, making out. No one would miss him. 

Stiles slipped away from the party, away from the house. He tugged at the tie, making it looser around his neck and clutched the shirt at his chest. Every breath was a struggle but he tried to breathe as evenly as possible. Without really knowing how, he ended up in the woods. All of the sounds stopped. There were no sounds of car engines or people or anything. The crunch of the leaves under his feet and wind making branches rustle were the only things he could hear and those were peaceful, not as intruding as the reminder of that life continued as normal. 

The forest was dark and it should have freaked Stiles out but instead he was calmed by it. He tripped over a small stone and almost fell, but didn't care. There was a fallen tree, cutting off his aimless path and he sat down on it. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing and the typical woodsy smell. Somehow he felt closer to Scott like this, like he could reach out and feel him at his fingertips. To keep the illusion, Stiles didn't reach out. Instead he sat on his hands to control the impulse he felt to try and see what happened. 

He'd calmed down almost completely when suddenly there were sounds of people running through the undergrowth, coming from behind him. Quickly he opened his eyes and twisted around. The bright light of a flashlight blinded him and he squinted, holding up his hand in front of his eyes until they'd adjusted to the light. When they had, Stiles instantly jumped up from the fallen tree and put his hands in the air. His heart raced and he was pretty sure that he was going to have a heart attack at any moment. 

"Hey, what are you doing?" Stiles asked, his voice high pitched and frightened. "Stop pointing those things at me!"

On the other side of the fallen tree, a few paces away, four big dudes were pointing their rifles at him and one big, annoyingly bright flashlight. They looked surprised and a bit confused. It took them a while to lower their rifles and Stiles was having even more trouble with breathing. 

"What are you doing here?" the man in front asked. His voice was kind of gruff and scary. 

From what Stiles could see the man had some serious stubble going on and his hair might have been blond. It was difficult to tell when the flashlight was aimed right at Stiles, effectively making spots appear in his vision. At least he could tell that all of the men were frightening the hell out of him, he didn't need his eyesight for that. 

"What am I doing here?" Stiles asked, his voice still high pitched and now incredulous. "What are _you_ doing here? You can't just run around in the forest at night, pointing rifles at people! I'm really pretty sure that you shouldn't be hunting in the dark because that's how accidents happen. But considering how you kept aiming those things at me when you could clearly see that I'm human, makes me think that you might be crazed killers and I'm going to die at any minute now."

"We're not killers," the same man that had spoken earlier said. "We're trying to find the _animal_ that bit that kid last weekend. It seems to only come out at night."

The words were like a punch in the gut. Stiles licked his lips and swallowed heavily. There was something weird about how the man had said 'animal' and it gave Stiles the creeps. This situation was wrong in more ways than one. 

"Do you have permission to run around in the woods at night with guns, trying to shoot a wild animal? Because I'm pretty sure that this is police business," he said. "They're also still looking for the half of the body of the girl they haven't found yet, and I don't think they'd appreciate you trampling around here."

"So why are you here?"

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up. "I'm not here aiming rifles at innocent people or trampling around all over the place. I was just sitting on this fallen tree, enjoying the peace and quiet until you decided to scare the crap out of me. I'm pretty sure I should call the police and have them haul your asses out of here before you manage to actually shoot someone."

"No, that won't be necessary." The man gave him a cold look before gesturing to the silent scary dudes to turn around. "You shouldn't be in the woods at night, kid. It's not safe. I advise you to go home right now." He made it sound almost like a threat and Stiles shuddered. 

Once the man with the stubble and his merry band of rifle toting men were out of sight, Stiles sank back down on the fallen log. The flashlight had left him pretty much blind in the darkness; it would take minutes for him to be able to see anything more than shapes. He ran trembling hands over his head, feeling his short hair prickling his skin. It seemed like someone wanted him to break down or have a heart attack. Maybe going into the woods where more than one person had died in a short time span hadn't been such a bright idea. The first time he'd gotten his best friend killed after all. 

Releasing a shaky breath, Stiles decided to go home because there was no way he was going to find any peace in the forest anymore. Not after the creepy hunter people. Those worried him more than a possible animal attack. He got to his feet and started walking in what he thought was the right direction. His night vision still wasn't that great, so he didn't see the person standing in front of him until he almost crashed into them. 

"Jesus fuck!" he burst out and clutched at his chest, for the second time feeling like he was going to get a heart attack. "What the fuck?"

His heart was beating like crazy when big hands landed on his shoulders. Though there was something familiar about those hands. He squinted and up close like this he could vaguely see the facial features of a certain person.

"Jesus, Derek, couldn't you have given me a little warning?" Stiles asked. "Don't just stand around lurking in the dark, waiting for people to crash into you. Not cool, dude."

"I wasn't lurking," was all Derek said because of course he was totally incapable of apologizing. 

"What are you doing here anyway?" 

"This is my property." Derek frowned at Stiles. "What are you doing here?"

Stiles looked around, but it didn't do him much good because all he could see was the dark shapes of trees. It was strange how he'd ended up on Derek's property because he was quite sure he hadn't walked that far. Unless the Hales had owned most part of the forest, which was possible; they had to have been kind of rich for Derek to be able to own a Camaro. 

"I was just out for a walk, in the woods, in the dark," Stiles said. "That's totally not forbidden, is it? If you don't want people trespassing you're going to have to put up a fence around the entire forest or something. I haven't done anything bad."

"It's not safe, go home."

Stiles snorted. "You're the second person to tell me that in the matter of minutes. I'm really feeling the love; everyone's so concerned about my safety, even the dudes pointing rifles at me. Actually, now that I think about it I think the only one of them that was even capable of saying words had a crossbow. What kind of man walks around in the woods in the middle of the night with a crossbow?"

"You met hunters?" Derek tensed and his grip on Stiles' shoulders became almost painful.

"Yeah, I guess? They said that they were hunting the animal that... that... you know, but it was really weird. I mean, they pointed the rifles at me even after they saw I was human so I almost thought they were some kind of insane murderers. I've got to tell you, Beacon Hills is really freaky lately."

"How did you make them leave?"

"I told them that I was pretty sure what they were doing was illegal and that I'd call the cops," Stiles said and Derek let out a small huff.

"They pointed rifles at you and you threatened them?" he asked disbelievingly. 

"They weren't aiming at me anymore when I threatened them. It's just so not cool to traipse around with scary weapons in the middle of the night. They could shoot someone innocent by accident. I am way over people getting killed around here."

"You really shouldn't be in the forest, especially not after dark." Derek sounded menacing and he stepped back, finally letting go of Stiles' shoulders. "It can be dangerous."

"I know," Stiles said. 

The danger didn't really bother him. He hadn't even thought about it on his way there. His feet had just taken him there, as if he belonged there somehow. It hadn't felt frightening until the hunters had barged in on his imagined connection with Scott. Even though two people had died close by very recently, Stiles didn't feel threatened at all. Though perhaps that was pure stupidity on his part, or he had some kind of a death wish. 

Derek had stood in silence for a moment, just staring at Stiles who got the feeling that Derek could see much better in the dark than what he could. It felt kind of awkward, but Stiles' entire life was practically built on awkward so it didn't bother him too much. He really hadn't expected to meet Derek again, though, not after having broken down completely in front of him. 

"I'll walk you home," Derek said.

Stiles wanted to protest but then Derek's hand was on his shoulder and he was being led through the forest. It was probably lucky that Derek had decided to take Stiles home, because Stiles had no idea where he was. Everything looked exactly the same in the dark and he wondered how Derek knew which direction to walk in. The woods may be his property but he'd been away for six years, that couldn't promote any kind of familiarity with the area. Perhaps he just had a freakishly good sense of direction. 

"Do you normally take nightly walks on your property?" Stiles asked to break the silence.

"Do you?"

It was clear that Derek wasn't talkative or particularly forthcoming with information about himself, but this was just ridiculous. Of course Stiles had no problems with holding an entirely one-sided conversation for hours, but it wasn't as much fun if the one he was talking to wasn't into it. 

"You know, if you point me in the right direction I'm perfectly capable of getting home on my own," Stiles said and promptly tripped over a root, Derek's hand on his shoulder the only thing to keep him from falling on his face. "Okay, so maybe I'll trip, like, a billion times but that's not so bad. How do you never trip on anything? Were you born with unfair wood navigating skills?" He realized how wrong that sounded and blushed, thankful that Derek probably couldn't see it in the dark. 

"I've spent a lot of time hiking," Derek said, completely unfazed. 

"So, you're an outdoors kind of person, huh? That makes sense. I'm mostly an indoors kind of person. I do play lacrosse, and by play I mean I sit on the bench and watch everyone else be so much better than me. Other than that I spend a lot of time with my computer. Do you like MMOs?" Stiles could practically sense Derek's blank stare from the silence that followed his question. "Never mind. Can you even use a computer?"

"Yes," Derek sounded kind of angry but Stiles thought that it was a totally fair question. 

"It's not like it's bad not to be able to use a computer. I guess it's kind of required for most things these days but I think you could survive without one. I couldn't survive without one but I've been told that I'm kind of a nerd, which I don't think is entirely fair because I can't help it if I'm smarter than people. I think Scott..." Stiles' babbling barreled to a stop and his breath hitched.

Derek squeezed his shoulder in a kind of painful but also comforting way. Stiles blinked rapidly to force away the tears that had so suddenly come to the surface. He couldn't believe that he'd actually for even a minute forgotten that Scott was dead. It had somehow seemed perfectly normal to walk through a dark forest, talking to Derek Hale that it had felt like nothing had changed. Stiles knew that his focus wasn't always as good as other people's - and he had a weird ability to adjust to anything very quickly - but to forget something so huge was sort of like stepping off a cliff because you forgot you can't fly. 

"Stiles," Derek cut through Stiles' thoughts and he realized that he'd stopped walking.

"I'm sorry," Stiles said, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve, shivering at the wind dancing through the trees. He hadn't noticed that he was so cold. "I keep doing this around you. I know I shouldn't, sorry."

"It's alright. Come on, let's keep moving."

Stiles nodded and started walking again. Derek's hand slid away from his shoulder to rest on his back, between his shoulder blades. It was a warm, comforting weight that Stiles was grateful for. He wouldn't even attempt trying to analyze why he felt more comfortable around someone he didn't know, compared to what he felt around his dad. Maybe it was easier to rely on a stranger because they didn't have to see each other every day. Stiles could cry and act like a complete idiot in front of Derek without much shame, because they wouldn't exactly hang out together after this. 

"Does it get easier?" Stiles asked even though he already knew the answer, he'd lost someone before after all. 

"No." Derek's reply was curt but Stiles could hear the pain behind it.

They reached the edge of the woods and walked out on a street. Stiles blinked against the streetlights and glanced at Derek whose expression was unreadable. Derek could have let Stiles walk the rest of the way home on his own, but he followed him all the way there. They were silent until they were right at Stiles' front door. Derek's hand dropped from its place between Stiles' shoulder blades, and he shoved both of his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. 

"Thanks... again," Stiles said and attempted to smile but it ended up as a grimace instead. "You didn't have to walk me home or anything. I appreciate it, though."

Derek nodded at Stiles and looked at him intensely in a frightening and kind of sexy way. "You shouldn't go back to the woods. Stay away from there." Okay, not sexy anymore because the way he said it was rude. "Stay away from me."

"It's not like I planned on running into you," Stiles said, glaring at Derek. "I was at a party and I kind of freaked out because of all the people there. I left and I don't even know how I ended up going to the woods. It just happened. And okay, maybe my pain and suffering isn't as great as yours, oh dark broody one, but it doesn't give you the right to be a total jerk to me. I hope I'll never have to see you again."

With that, Stiles fumbled his key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, getting inside the house to slam the door shut in Derek's infuriating face. So much for feeling comfortable around Derek. Of course he would turn out to be a massive jerk in the end. It felt worse than it did when Jackson was a douche. Jackson's viciousness was based on being rich, popular and competitive. Derek's was something else entirely. 

Stiles made sure that the front door was locked properly before making his way up the stairs. He went to his room and stripped down to his boxers, collapsing in bed. The entire evening had been a nightmare. Everything was a nightmare. He stared up at the ceiling as his thoughts ran wild in his head. Why couldn't it stop just this one time? He wanted peace. 

***

The beginning of the weekend was quiet. Stiles managed to sleep until noon and without any disturbing nightmares. At least he couldn't remember having any. He practically rolled out of bed and grabbed some clothes before going to the bathroom. First he brushed his teeth because it felt like something had died in his mouth during the night. Then he took care of his business, showered and got dressed. 

When he got to the kitchen his dad was there, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. The sheriff glanced up at Stiles and gave him a smile. Stiles managed to smile back before he grabbed cereal and milk, pouring them into a bowl and sat down. It would've felt like a completely normal Saturday, except there was an empty space in Stiles' heart and he was just moving on autopilot. 

"How was the party last night?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

Stiles tensed and had to force himself to chew and swallow the cereal. "It was okay, I guess. I went home early because I wasn't really in a party mood."

He'd turned off his cell phone when he left the party. Maybe he'd have messages waiting for him when he switched it back off. He didn't know if Allison had even noticed that he disappeared. She'd looked like she had a lot of fun dancing, and her new friendship with Stiles might just be because of pity. It hadn't started out that way but maybe that was the only reason it continued for more than a day. Not that Stiles thought that Allison was a terrible person, but she was beautiful and had friends like Lydia and Jackson. Stiles didn't fit in. 

"Well, there will be more parties in the future, right?" Sheriff Stilinski looked really uncomfortable, like he had no idea what to say.

"Right," Stiles said, trying to smile reassuringly. "You're free from work today, right? Maybe we can do something later. I was thinking I should do some homework after breakfast, but then we could watch TV together or something. I'll cook, too."

"That sounds great."

Stiles smiled briefly and ducked his head to focus on his breakfast. Brunch? It was kind of late for breakfast but it wasn't brunch either, because it was just cereal. Besides, it was already lunchtime so the time for brunch was already passed. It was the first thing he'd eaten that day so that made it breakfast. He shook his head to clear it and remembered that he should take his Adderall. Once he'd finished his breakfast, he grabbed a glass of orange juice and went to his room to take his medicine and study. 

Studying meant spreading his books all over his desk and then attempting to read them all at the same time. It was easier than just studying one subject at a time. Like this, he could jump between subjects depending on which direction his mind took. It was unconventional, but when his mind was frazzled it was the only thing that worked. He plowed through the work pretty quickly, even though he'd fallen behind a bit during his absence. His grades wouldn't really suffer at least. 

After a couple of hours or so, Stiles decided that it was enough. He'd been focused enough not to think about Scott or Derek or anything bad more than fleetingly. Now it came back to the front of his mind and he sighed, rubbing the top of his head. He still couldn't understand why Derek had been such a jerk to him. Not that he'd been overly friendly in the first place, but he'd helped Stiles. It seemed a bit much to tell him to stay away like that. Hadn't he done Derek a favor by getting those hunters off of his property? 

Stiles walked down the stairs and found his dad already in front of the TV. He flopped down beside the sheriff and stared at the screen without really seeing. If this had been a normal Saturday he'd probably go to Scott's house to play video games. Or Scott would've come over and they would've done whatever came into their minds. Stiles enjoyed spending time with his dad, he really did. He just wished that the circumstances were different. 

"What would you like to eat today?" Stiles asked to take his mind off of things. 

"Something with lots of grease and salt," the sheriff replied. 

Stiles snorted, "Very amusing. You'll have to make do with pasta and probably lots of vegetables. I know it sucks, but what can you do? I'd like to keep you alive." He choked on the last word and coughed, tears appearing in his eyes. 

His dad patted his back and looked at him worriedly. Stiles just waved his hand to show that he was fine. Things that hadn't seemed so bad to say for several years now were suddenly a sore subject again. He'd probably have quite a violent reaction to any sentences referring to life or death, even lame jokes. It had been terrible to be so sensitive about it for a couple of years after his mom died, but he'd been a kid then. Now he was sixteen and he was supposed to be able to handle things like that without being on the verge of tears - or a panic attack. 

"You don't have to cook, we can get takeout again," the sheriff said, probably in an attempt to make Stiles' feel better. 

"No, no takeout," Stiles said, clearing his throat. "We already eat it enough as it is, and it isn't exactly healthy. I don't mind cooking, really. I know that I'm not very good at it, but someone's got to do it and you're too lazy."

"I am not lazy. I'm a hardworking man and I think that I deserve a break."

"I work hard, too, but that doesn't seem to matter to anyone. I have school and homework and lacrosse practice, then I come home and I cook and clean. How am I supposed to deal with all of this pressure?" Stiles had started saying it as a joke but at the end his voice had a panicked edge to it. 

"I'll help you cook," Sheriff Stilinski said, placing his hand on the back of Stiles' neck and squeezed reassuringly. "We'll help each other."

"Oh, look, I love this show," Stiles said, pointing at the TV.

He hated the show and his dad knew it. The sheriff only nodded and they focused on the screen. Sometimes it was good that they were not really good at talking to each other, it made it so much easier for Stiles to pretend that nothing was wrong. They clearly loved each other, but they'd never been good at talking about their feelings. Stiles mostly kept everything bottled up; at least once his panic attacks about his mom's death had stopped. His dad was already so burdened and he didn't want to add to the weight on the sheriff's shoulders. Stiles would be okay. Eventually. 

They watched TV and ate sandwiches and then they made dinner together. Stiles had high hopes of getting through the day without any major breakdowns or complications. Then, when it was already dark outside and the sheriff's eyes began drooping, he was called into the station. 

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked when the call ended and his dad got up to get dressed in his work clothes. 

Sheriff Stilinski hesitated, clearly conflicted, then said, "Another possible animal attack. We've got to make sure that that's what it really was."

Stiles gripped the armrest of the couch so hard that his knuckles went white. "Who was it this time?"

"Mr. Lahey."

The sheriff hurried to get dressed and said a quick goodbye to Stiles before walking out. Stiles was left sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. He was still gripping the armrest with his nails digging into the fabric. Another animal attack. Maybe the hunters the night before had been doing the right thing. What if they left the forest after Stiles threatened them? Perhaps if they'd stayed, they would've found the feral animal and killed it. Then Mr. Lahey wouldn't have gotten attacked. It was Stiles' fault that someone had gotten hurt again. 

Mr. Lahey. There was a guy named Lahey in the lacrosse team. Isaac Lahey. Maybe Mr. Lahey was Isaac's father. Stiles had never paid much attention to Isaac who was a quiet guy. He was another one of the guys who spent most of their time on the bench, but Stiles had always had Scott and hadn't done much socializing with the others on the team. All he knew was that Isaac almost never spoke to anyone, and he seemed to flinch away more from the ball than he actually caught it. 

Stiles switched off the TV and got up from the couch, dragging his feet behind him on the way to his room. He still hadn't switched on his cell, so he sank down on the bed and nervously pressed the button. There were thirty text messages from Allison and almost as many missed calls. The texts increased in panic with each one and he winced, the guilt churning inside of him. He'd honestly forgotten about it by the time he'd finished eating breakfast earlier that day. Biting his lip, he composed a text for her. 

_I'm sorry. Didn't feel well last night so went home and turned off phone. Spent today with dad and forgot about phone. So very sorry. I'm ok, don't worry. I'll see you Monday._

He pressed send and stared at his phone for a few seconds. Allison seemed to genuinely care about him. Maybe she didn't just want to be his friend because she pitied him after all. Or she was just worried that he'd kill himself and she'd be stuck with the guilt because she didn't notice in time that he'd left the party. No, he shouldn't think things like that, but it was so hard not to when he wasn't used to anyone his own age caring about him. Except for Scott. 

Stiles sighed and almost jumped out of his skin when his phone beeped, signaling a new text. It was from Allison, obviously, and it read:

_It's ok, I forgive you. :) Just glad you're ok. Lydia & Jackson worried too._

There was no way that Lydia and Jackson had been worried about Stiles. Perhaps they'd been worried about Allison worrying about him, but that was it. He sighed again and placed his cell on the nightstand. Glancing towards his laptop, he shook his head and decided to go to bed instead. Any energy that he might have had earlier had left him now, and he felt tired all the way to his bones. The new possible animal attack didn't make anything better. 

He got ready for bed and crawled underneath the covers. Sleep didn't come easy and when it did, it came with nightmares. The monster was back and Derek was watching him with emotionless eyes as he was being dragged away. He was dragged by the monster, claws digging into his calves, and dumped in a grave. In the grave beside him was the rotting corpse of Scott. Derek appeared next to the grave, carrying a shovel. Dirt landed on Stiles' face and everything went black.

The awakening on Sunday morning was not a peaceful one.


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this part: There's Scott's funeral and Stiles has some dark thoughts about death, though he's still not suicidal and never will be throughout the fic.
> 
> Right, here's the update as promised. I'm about 4000 words into writing part 6 right now. I wanted to have finished the chapter by now but it's going very slowly. I'm going to do Camp NaNoWriMo in April, though, and I hope to finish writing all of the parts so there'll be less than a month between updates. I don't actually know how many parts this fic will have. Maybe around ten.
> 
> Enough babbling from me. If you catch any mistakes, please tell me so I can fix them. Enjoy!

When Monday arrived, Stiles was absolutely exhausted. He hadn't been able to sleep at all. Sunday night had marked one week since Scott died. Stiles had spent the entire night focusing on his breathing, working really hard not to have another panic attack. There would be no one to help him through it, and he already felt crushingly alone even without added panic. His dad was even busier at work now that the animal had attacked people three times. Once was an accident, two was bad luck but three meant that they had to take care of the threat or people would complain. Wild animals didn't make a habit of attacking people unless threatened, but this was different. 

"You really look like shit, man," Jackson said, joining up with Stiles as he walked through the corridor towards his locker. "Are you okay?" 

Stiles stumbled and almost face planted into his locker door. Had Jackson Whittemore just seriously asked him if he was okay? This kind of thing didn't happen. He'd never heard Jackson ask if Danny was okay and they were best friends. Maybe Jackson never had to ask because he knew even without having to, or Danny was always okay. Either way, Jackson had never really shown concern for anyone but himself and maybe Lydia. 

"Um, yeah, I guess," Stiles said, unlocking his locker to shove in some books he didn't need to carry around in his bag anymore. "I just couldn't sleep, that's all."

Jackson slapped a hand down on Stiles' shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but because Jackson was Jackson it was painful instead. Stiles hid a wince and grabbed the book he would actually need for the first class of the day. 

"Allison was really worried about you when you disappeared from the party," Jackson said, frowning at Stiles as if he couldn't figure out why Allison would care. "She wanted to search for you, but I told her your father's the sheriff and probably wouldn't let you get kidnapped or murdered or something."

"Ha, yeah, thank you, that's totally how those things work. My dad automatically knows if I'm in some kind of danger because his spidey senses are tingling, then he comes to rescue me guns blazing. It's really cool, he even does those cool front flips and ninja kicks the kidnappers. Actually it happens every Friday, it's kind of a tradition."

Jackson nodded seriously but he probably hadn't listened to a word Stiles said. Stiles smiled weakly and closed his locker so they could head to their first class of the day. People never made way for Stiles when he walked anywhere and he usually had to weave his way through a crowd. Now everyone parted in the middle like they were water and Stiles was Moses. Well, actually Jackson was Moses and Stiles just happened to walk next to him. It was a strange feeling. 

Classes went by as usual, though Stiles didn't get nearly as many reprimands as he usually did. Apparently the guilt weighing him down gave him a newfound ability to sit sort of still and shut up. It probably also helped that the person he usually talked to wasn't there anymore. Pain filled every fiber of his being and he dug his fingers into his thigh, hard enough to hurt. 

At lunch he was forced to apologize to Allison over and over again for not telling her he was going home from the party. She said that it was fine but her puppy dog eyes made him feel ridiculously bad. It was the same kind of power that Scott's eyes had had on him, and that just made him apologize even harder. After about a hundred apologies, Allison scrunched up her nose and swatted Stiles' arm. 

"Please, stop apologizing, Stiles," she said. "Now you're making me feel bad that I was so worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Stiles said sheepishly and Allison laughed.

"You should come watch lacrosse practice this afternoon together with me, Allison" Lydia said, cutting into Stiles' apology marathon. "You never got to see Stiles play last week because you watched practice when he was absent."

"My dad is coming to pick me up, but I guess I can call him and ask him to come pick me up a bit later," Allison said. 

"Please don't," Stiles said quickly. "I don't want people to come watch my utter humiliation." 

"The team gets to see your utter humiliation practically every day," Jackson pointed out helpfully. "What difference does it make that Allison gets to see it too? She is going to see it sooner or later, just like everyone else already has."

"I liked it better when we weren't friends," Stiles said, grimacing at Jackson.

"Lies." Jackson grinned and took a bite of his apple. 

To his surprise Stiles thought that Jackson was right. Of course it would never be the kind of friendship he'd had with Scott, and it was more abusive than anything, but at the same time it was kind of nice. Stiles feared for his obviously deteriorating mental state if he actually thought that being friends with Jackson was a good thing. 

"Maybe you'll be so terrible that coach won't even let you practice," Lydia said cheerfully. 

Stiles wondered why he had to fall for someone as evil as her. Practically every word she said to him was like a knife twisting deeper into his heart. He really was a masochist. She was just so beautiful and beneath her shallow act she was really intelligent. Managing to keep that under wraps required shrewdness and a sense of manipulation that Stiles admired, in a terrified sort of way. 

"Coach doesn't hate me as much as he hates Greenberg at least," Stiles said.

"I'm pretty sure Greenberg is a figment of his imagination," Danny said, sounding bored.

"Yes, but I'm still above him in rank in the coach's mind. I really think that you should give me some credit for that. And it's not like I really try that hard at lacrosse. Being first line isn't important to me like it is for you guys. I mostly joined because Sco... Because I was bored."

"I'll come watch practice," Allison said, smiling at Stiles. "I don't know much about lacrosse, so if you're not allowed to practice you can tell me about the rules."

"Oh, sure, I can totally do that." Stiles smiled back at Allison. "That'll be cool."

Once it was time for practice Stiles was allowed to join. He looked at the bleachers and spotted Allison and Lydia. Allison waved at him and he waved back, making coach ask him if he had a question. Stiles shook his head and practice begun. He'd been so focused on the fact that he'd make a fool out of himself, that he'd forgotten about Isaac and what had happened to Isaac's father. 

It wasn't until Stiles was totally rammed by Isaac and fell to the ground with a painful thud that he remembered. He grinded his teeth and cried out in pain. His shoulder was burning with pain and he looked up at Isaac who was standing with his back turned to him, hands clenched in fists. Stiles couldn't be angry at someone whose dad was in the hospital, but his shoulder really hurt like hell. 

People rushed to his side and blocked his view of Isaac's back. Allison kneeled down next to him and looked at him with eyes filled with worry. She carefully wrapped her hands around his uninjured arm and helped him to his feet, with some added help from Jackson. 

"Stilinski, how are you feeling?" coach Finstock asked, looking at Stiles with what could be described as concern. 

"Like my arm is about to fall off," Stiles said through clenched teeth.

"He needs to go to the hospital," Allison said and glanced towards the benches. "My dad is here, he can drive us there."

"Good. Don't just stand there, get going!" Coach Finstock made shooing motions with his arms before turning to look at the rest of the team. "Where the hell did Lahey go?"

Stiles didn't hear the rest of coach's words because Allison started leading him towards her father. Jackson stayed behind on the field. Lydia was still sitting in the bleachers, looking at them with a furrowed brow. Stiles looked at her for a few seconds before looking at Allison's father. When he did he almost came to a halt. He would probably have stopped walking, if Allison didn't still have a grip on his good arm and was leading him forwards. 

Allison's father was one of the hunters from the forest, the one with stubble who had actually spoken to him. Stiles didn't want to go anywhere near him, but Allison led him to stand right in front of her dad. The man looked at Stiles with a piercing gaze. 

"Dad, Stiles seems to have gotten his shoulder pretty badly injured," Allison said. "Can you drive us to the hospital?"

"Of course," Allison's father said without breaking eye contact with Stiles. "I'm Chris Argent, and you're... Stiles?"

"Stiles Stilinski," Stiles mumbled.

Mr. Argent finally broke eye contact and they quickly walked to the parking lot. Thankfully there was nothing wrong with Stiles' legs. The only reason he wasn't crying from the pain in his shoulder was that the shock had made him a bit numb. Getting into Mr. Argent's car was painful and awkward with only one arm to brace himself with. Allison helped him with the seatbelt and Stiles flashed back to a week earlier, when Derek had done the exact same thing. That was something that he didn't want to think about now. 

Mr. Argent and Allison stayed with him until he was taken care of by a doctor. Allison wanted to stay and make sure that Stiles got home afterwards, but Stiles told her that he'd call his dad and ask him for a ride home. She reluctantly agreed and only because Mr. Argent seemed kind of impatient to go home. 

It turned out that Stiles didn't have a dislocated shoulder like he'd feared, but it was very bruised and sore. The doctor gave him an icepack and told him to rest the arm for at least a week to make the swelling go down completely. Stiles felt ridiculous. The other guys on the lacrosse team wouldn't even go to the hospital for this. They'd just get back to their feet and keep playing as if nothing had happened. 

Stiles left the examination room, his dignity badly bruised just like his shoulder. He stared down at the floor intensely and almost bumped into someone. Quickly he jumped back so he wouldn't walk into the person and jostle his shoulder. When he looked up to apologize, he choked on the word and stared with wide eyes. He'd almost bumped into Mrs. McCall. She looked completely exhausted and her eyes when she looked at Stiles were sad. 

"Stiles, what are you doing here?" she asked and then seemed to realize that she was being rude. "I'm on a short break. Why don't we go somewhere to talk?"

Honestly, Stiles wanted to run away. He wasn't sure that he could deal with talking to Mrs. McCall right then, or ever again. Scott had looked quite a lot like his mother. She'd almost been like a mother to Stiles as well after his own mom had died. Not in the same nurturing and accepting way perhaps, but she fed him and made sure he slept properly and that he did his homework. When the sheriff had to work late when Stiles was younger, Stiles spent a lot of evenings and nights at the McCall household. 

They went and sat down on a couple of chairs in a relatively empty corridor. Doctors and nurses kept passing by, but no one would care enough to listen or stare at them. Mrs. McCall asked if Stiles wanted something to drink or eat but he shook his head no. 

"Um, I know that you probably don't want to sit here and talk to me," Mrs. McCall said and Stiles was about to protest but she held up a hand to stop him. "I know that this is uncomfortable and honestly it hurts to see you, Stiles. It's not in any way your fault, but it makes me feel the absence more. Despite that, I do worry about you and I want to know if you're okay."

"I'm fine," Stiles said quickly and Mrs. McCall looked at the icepack that he was still holding. "Oh, this, right. I, uh, had a bit of an accident during lacrosse practice today. I'm totally fine, though, I just have to rest for a week or so until the swelling and bruising is gone. It's silly, really."

"You'll come to the funeral tomorrow, won't you? You and your father."

Stiles swallowed heavily and licked his dry lips, nodding. "We'll be there."

"Okay," Mrs. McCall said, getting to her feet and gave Stiles a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Take care, Stiles. Make sure not to make that injury any worse."

"I'll do my best," Stiles said, doing his best to make his smile look natural. "Bye."

Mrs. McCall went back to work and Stiles was left sitting in the chair. He should get up and make his way home somehow, but he felt completely drained. Instead of getting out of the hospital as quickly as he could, he stayed in the chair and let the cold from the icepack seep into his hands. 

It wasn't until he had the feeling that someone was staring at him that he looked up. To his surprise he saw Derek standing right next to one of the doors of a hospital room, looking right at him. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach and he glared at Derek. Then Derek broke their awkward scowling match when Isaac came out of the hospital room. Stiles frowned; Derek knew Isaac? That bothered him more than he liked to admit. 

Isaac talked to Derek a bit - they were too far away from Stiles for him to be able to hear what they were saying - and then turned around to look at Stiles. With a sheepish expression he approached Stiles and stopped right next to him.

"Hi, Stiles," Isaac said, his head ducked and he wrung his hands. "I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about what happened at practice, and that I didn't stop to make sure that you were okay. It's just... the thing with my dad made me upset and I ended up taking it out on you. I'm really sorry."

Stiles looked at Isaac, kind of stunned. It was definitely the most he'd ever heard Isaac say at once. Maybe actually the only thing he'd ever heard him say. Everything was made even stranger by the fact that Derek was lurking behind Isaac. Stiles' life had seriously become very weird. 

"It's okay, I understand," Stiles said, smiling reassuringly at Isaac. "No hard feelings, dude."

Isaac smiled, looking relieved and Stiles kind of understood what he felt. Not that Stiles would be able to get rid of his guilt. The one he needed forgiveness from was dead. Even if Scott had forgiven him if he'd lived, Stiles wouldn't have been able to forgive himself anyway. 

"I guess I'll see you at school," Isaac said and glanced over his shoulder at Derek.

"You can go, Isaac," Derek said. "I'm going to drive Stiles home."

Stiles wanted to protest but Isaac nodded and walked away with quick steps, leaving Stiles alone with Derek. Awkward silence stretched between them. Derek offered a hand to Stiles to help him up, but Stiles ignored it and stood up without any help. It was a bit difficult and his shoulder throbbed with pain, but after what Derek had said to him last Friday he didn't feel like having any contact with him. 

Derek sighed and scowled at Stiles. "Come on." He grabbed Stiles' uninjured shoulder and started leading him through the corridors. 

"I thought that you wanted me to stay away from you," Stiles said bitterly. "It's kind of hard for me to do that if you keep offering to take me home. Or am I not allowed to be at the hospital either? Perhaps you own that too and I can't even touch any of the things that are yours."

"You don't have a car, right?" Derek asked through clenched teeth. "Even if you did you can't drive since you're injured."

"Even so, it's not your job to drive me home. Do you have some kind of a hero complex or something? Maybe you find injured stray animals and help them. That's probably what I am to you, right? A stray animal, something you're obligated to take care of. But guess what, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself and I don't need your pity!"

Derek continued leading Stiles forward with stony silence. Stiles was too tired and in too much pain to do any bigger efforts to struggle against Derek's grip. Soon enough he was in the parking lot next to Derek's Camaro and Derek was opening the passenger door for him. Stiles looked at the small space he'd have to squeeze himself into, and wondered how he was supposed to do it without hurting himself. 

Even getting into Mr. Argent's large SUV had been a painful process. Derek seemed to sense his hesitation and gave his uninjured a reassuring squeeze. Somehow Stiles' pain lessened and he wondered how the hell Derek Hale could have that kind of an effect on him. He decided not to dwell on it too much and got into the car while his pain wasn't as unmanageable. Once again he found himself being buckled in by someone else, this time it was Derek again. Derek's expression was pained and Stiles wondered why Derek was even bothering if he hated it so much. 

"Your car isn't very practical," Stiles said once Derek was in the driver's seat, pulling out of the parking space. 

"I don't have the need for a practical car," Derek said, still with the same pained expression. 

"So, no kids then? I mean, you're young but others have had kids at a younger age. Maybe the whole bad boy with a fancy car thing does it for your girlfriend, though. I still don't know why you're back in Beacon Hills. Are you moving back here? Or have you already moved back? It's quite a nice place if you're going to start a family. Maybe not lately with the animal attacks and all but that won't continue forever. Unless it does. Oh my god, what if this is some kind of sign that the apocalypse is about to begin?"

Derek glanced at Stiles, looking confused and angry at the same time. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked. "I don't have kids or a girlfriend, and I'm not planning on getting kids any time soon."

"Oh, but you are planning on getting a girlfriend?"

"No," Derek muttered, gripping the steering wheel so hard that Stiles could swear that he was going to break it. 

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, dude," Stiles said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture, but then practically keeled over as pain shot through his shoulder and arm. "Ouch, that was not the brightest thing I've ever done."

"Stiles, you don't have to stay away from me. I still don't want you on my property, though. It's dangerous, considering the... animal attacks."

Stiles stared at Derek, wondering where that had come from. He'd basically started talking Derek's ear off because he was nervous and in pain, and Derek tells him not to stay away from him? Usually the exact opposite would happen. People, that weren't his dad or Scott, didn't have a high tolerance to his rambling. He'd definitely not expected Derek to be this okay with it. Though Derek did look very uncomfortable and pissed off, but that seemed to be kind of his natural state of being. 

"If I want to see you but I can't be on your property, how am I supposed to get in touch with you?" Stiles asked, which he didn't mean to because it was like admitting that he did want to see Derek. 

"You can ask Isaac to give me a message from you," Derek said. "I'll be around."

"Don't you, like, have a phone or something?"

"No, I haven't had the time to get one."

How could Derek not have a phone? Having a phone was pretty much essential in the society they lived in. Unless Derek was the kind of person who liked to live alone in the forest, managing with what he could find in nature. Except he owned a Camaro so probably not. The beautiful car wasn't exactly something a glorified homeless person would drive, was it?

"So, how do you know Isaac?" Stiles decided to ask instead of accusing Derek of being homeless. "I don't think I've ever really seen him talk to anyone before. Then again, you don't really talk much either so maybe you fit together. As friends I mean. I totally didn't mean to imply that you're a couple of anything, even if it kind of sounded like it when I said it like that."

"Isaac was friends with one of my younger cousins when they were kids," Derek said quietly. "I wanted to see how he was doing now when Mr. Lahey is in the hospital."

"Oh." Stiles stared at Derek in surprise; he hadn't expected something like that. "That's very nice of you. Not that I'm implying that you're not usually nice, but I kind of am because for being nice you're really an asshole."

"I can kick you out of my car and let you walk home."

"You wouldn't do that, not after going through so much effort to get me into your car in the first place. I think you really enjoy taking care of people. I mean, first you helped me when I kind of... um, when I was alone in the forest, then you check on Isaac when his father is hurt. Beneath that angry exterior you're just a fluffy puppy, aren't you?"

Derek glanced sharply at Stiles but didn't say anything. Stiles was used to Derek's silence by now but he really wished that he'd say something. It was so much harder to ignore the pain, physical and emotional, when there was nothing to really distract Stiles from it. He was good at rambling on forever but it would still be easier if Derek would just say something that he could latch onto. 

"Okay, so maybe you're not a fluffy puppy," Stiles mumbled, squirming and winced as the pain in his shoulder increased again. 

The rest of the ride home was silent, though Stiles kept bouncing his leg and tapped out a rhythm on his thigh with his right hand. He kept his mind occupied with coming up with a plan for how to hide his injury from his dad. It was really nothing serious and he didn't need the sheriff to worry about him even more. Sheriff Stilinski was already keeping close tabs on Stiles, and Stiles couldn't hide his feelings if his dad became even more worried. Breaking down in front of his dad in the beginning had been unavoidable, but Stiles didn't want to do it again. 

He got lost in his thoughts and didn't react to anything around him until the car stopped. Derek had parked outside of Stiles' house and walked around to open the passenger door and help Stiles out of the car. 

"I can manage on my own," Stiles said and Derek nodded, backing away a bit. 

Stiles unbuckled the seatbelt and tried to get out as smoothly as possible. Of course that meant that he tripped and ended up smashing his face into Derek's chest. He wished that the ground would open up and swallow him. Derek grabbed Stiles' right upper arm to steady him and his cheeks were bright red from his blush. 

"Sorry. Can I make more of a fool out of myself around you? Because at this point I have a difficult time imagining how things could get more embarrassing. I keep totally breaking down like a big freak around you, and then I have to be clumsy as well and wow, your chest is, like, really firm. Oh god, did I just say that out loud? I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"Stiles," Derek said calmly. "Stop."

"I don't think I can stop," Stiles said, almost hyperventilating. "Because if I stop there will be awkward silence and there'll be thoughts, and I just can't deal with thoughts right now. I don't want to cry like a big loser or do something even more embarrassing. It's, like, so easy for you to be all stoic and dark and mysterious and I bet you haven't cried in your entire life. Though you did lose your family so maybe you did cry, and I didn't mean to bring that up. I'm so sorry."

"Stop," Derek said again and closed the passenger door to the Camaro, locking the doors with an obnoxious beep - Stiles really hated those remote car lock things. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Stiles asked with a confused expression on his face. 

"Into your house."

"Why? I can totally take care of myself. You don't have to stay. In fact, I don't think I want you to stay. You know that I'm the sheriff's son, right? I don't think he'd be too happy about me letting strangers into the house, especially not with a possible murderer on the loose. You aren't a murderer, are you? Like, all of the deaths and injuries have been on your property. Do you have a really vicious, big dog that you set loose on people so it will kill them? Did your dog kill Scott?"

Stiles looked at Derek with wide eyes when he realized that it was a big possibility that Derek could actually be a murderer. He was big and strong and did a whole lot of skulking in the woods. Losing almost his entire family in a fire must have also done some pretty bad things to his mind. It would actually surprise Stiles if Derek wasn't a murderer. He made a strangled noise and hurried to the front door, squeaking when Derek followed him. 

"I'm not a murderer, Stiles," Derek said, anger apparent in his voice. 

"That's what all the murderers say," Stiles said, his hand shaking as he tried to unlock the door. "Shit," he muttered and yelped when Derek's hand rested on top of his to turn the key. 

"I'm not a murderer and I don't have a dog," Derek practically growled which didn't do much to convince Stiles of his innocence. "They brought me in for questioning but they couldn't find anything suspicious about me."

"They did?" Stiles looked at Derek in surprise. "My dad didn't tell me about that."

Not that the sheriff ever told him anything voluntarily, but he was pretty good at weaseling stuff out of his dad or listened in on the calls. Of course he hadn't done that lately because any reminder of death made him choke up. He licked his lips and squirmed under Derek's intense gaze. It was impossible to tell what color Derek's eyes were, some sort of green gray with brown mixed into them. What was that called again? Hazel? Why was Stiles thinking about Derek's eye color at a time like this? 

"Let me come in?" Derek said and Stiles found himself nodding. 

With Derek's help, the front door had been unlocked so Stiles opened it and walked inside, Derek following close behind. It made Stiles feel really jittery and nervous because he hadn't had anyone except for Scott come over for years. Last time he'd had other people over it had been before his mom died and he had a birthday party. He didn't even know Derek and that made the situation so much more awkward. 

"Why did you want to come inside?" Stiles asked, looking around and really taking notice of the state of the place for the first time in a week. It was pretty much a mess with dust covering all surfaces and stuff out of place. "I'll be fine on my own. The injury isn't so bad, just some bruises, and I can still use my dominant hand so yay for that. You can go back to lurking in the woods or whatever you do all day."

"Since I've helped you a couple of times, you'll give me food," Derek said.

Stiles turned around to stare at Derek. "What? Like, you just want to take food out of our fridge and take it with you or something? That's kind of weird, man. I guess you really don't help people because you're kind hearted or something. All you want is free food."

"We're going to eat together," Derek said, rolling his eyes as if that was the logical assumption. 

How was Stiles supposed to know that that's what Derek meant? Derek seemed really unsociable at the best of times. Too shocked to say anything - that was almost a first - Stiles led the way to the kitchen. He checked the fridge for something that Derek would possibly like to eat but there wasn't much. There was also the problem that Stiles could really only use one of his hands. 

"Sit," Derek said and Stiles automatically obeyed, walking to the table and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs.

"Just so you know, I'm sitting down because I really want to sit, not because you told me to," Stiles said. "I thought that we were supposed to eat. How can we eat something if you tell me to sit so I can't prepare anything?"

Derek didn't reply, instead he checked the fridge, the freezer and the cupboards and grabbed stuff from them. Then he actually started cooking. Stiles mouth was wide open as he stared at Derek who was moving around the kitchen with ease, as if it was his own and he'd been there a billion times before. There was no way he'd been there before, though, unless Stiles had been sort of right and Derek was crazy and a stalker or something. It wouldn't be much of a shock if Derek was a stalker; the truly shocking thing was that he seemed good at cooking. 

"Um, do you cook often?" Stiles asked and stopped impersonating a goldfish.

"Used to," Derek said, chopping vegetables. 

"Okay. Did you invite yourself in for dinner just to cook for me, because you knew it would be hard for me to do it with an injured shoulder? That totally disproves my theory of you being a murderer or a stalker or something. Unless you're planning on poisoning me, or both of us. Are you planning some kind of weird murder-suicide thing here? Because my dad would totally find a way to bring you back to life just to torture you and kill you again."

"Shut up, Stiles."

Stiles shut up and stared at Derek who continued cooking as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The smell of food filled the kitchen and Stiles' stomach actually rumbled. He hadn't had much of an appetite the past week, but his stomach decided that making embarrassing sounds when Derek was right there was the thing to do. Stiles groaned and buried his face in his arm that was resting on the table. His left arm hung uselessly at his side, and pain radiated from his shoulder all the way to his fingertips. 

"It's done," Derek said and placed a plate on the table next to Stiles' arm. 

Stiles lifted his head and took a deep breath, his mouth watering at the smell of the food on the plate. Derek handed him a fork and Stiles took it, instantly shoving food into his mouth. It was still hot and it burned the roof of his mouth but he didn't care because it tasted good. Derek sat down opposite from him and began eating in a surprisingly proper way. Stiles had figured that Derek would be the kind of person that wolfed down his food. Apparently Stiles said that out loud because Derek choked on a bite and glared at him. 

"What? You do have that whole angry caveman look about you," Stiles said, gesturing at Derek with his fork. "How was I supposed to know that you have actual table manners when you lack any other kind of manners? Who taught you table manners anyway?" He paled, thinking that he'd definitely put his foot into his mouth again which was an impressive feat when his mouth was full of food.

"My parents," Derek muttered. 

Awkward silence filled the kitchen and Stiles began to fidget, biting his lip. He didn't understand why Derek was helping him at all. It was obvious that Derek wasn't happy with the situation, and Stiles didn't help by rambling and making both himself and Derek uncomfortable. Stiles thought that everything was better than panicking again, but perhaps a panic attack would be preferable over pouring salt into Derek's wounds. 

"Thank you for cooking for me," Stiles said in a small voice. "It's really good."

"Plenty of leftovers if you need them," Derek muttered, getting up. "I should go."

Before Stiles had the chance to apologize or even say goodbye, Derek was already gone. Stiles helplessly looked at the half eaten food on Derek's plate and felt like the biggest fuckup in the world. He had a feeling that Derek never did things like these for anyone else. It was probably just because he pitied Stiles, or because he had some weird sense of guilt about something that Stiles couldn't fathom. Honestly it seemed incredibly out of character for Derek to be so nice, and Stiles had messed it all up. Stiles messed up everything and killed anything that was good in the world. Like Scott. 

Without Derek there to distract him with the weird kind gesture that had seemed painfully reluctant, Stiles was hit with the fact that Scott's funeral was the next day. He let go of the fork and decided to clean up the evidence that someone else had been there before the sheriff came home. The pain in his shoulder was excruciating, but at least it helped distract him from the guilt and nausea that threatened to take over. He washed the dishes in too hot water and enjoyed the way it burned his hands. Physical pain was good, manageable. Perhaps he should thank Isaac for tackling him and ask him to do it again.

***

The funeral was hell. Mrs. McCall was crying the entire time and she clutched Stiles' hand. Mr. McCall didn't show up and even if he had, Mrs. McCall definitely wouldn't have been clutching his hand. What kind of father didn't show up to his son's funeral? 

Scott had told Stiles a bit about his father and had said that he didn't believe in Scott's asthma. Maybe Mr. McCall had decided not to show up because Scott couldn't be dead; asthma didn't exist so Scott didn't have an asthma attack and die. If only that could be true. Stiles would give anything to have Scott be alive. He should have been the one to have died that night in the woods; it had been his stupid idea to go look for the body in the first place. Or he should have told his dad the truth, that Scott was with him and then Scott would've gotten a lift home. 

Everything was Stiles' fault and yet Mrs. McCall was clutching his hand, as if he was a lifeline that she had to hold onto not to drown. _I killed your son_ , he wanted to tell her. _Let go of me. You should hate me. Everyone should hate me._ Scott's smiling face looked at him from the photo in front of the coffin. It felt like a mockery. If there was a heaven or any kind of afterlife and Stiles met Scott there after he died, Scott would not be smiling at him. Actually, Stiles would probably not even be allowed to see Scott because he would go to hell. 

Stiles didn't cry. If he started crying he would never be able to stop and he would probably have a panic attack in front of everybody. He couldn't let that happen. It wouldn't be seen as weakness to cry at a funeral, but Stiles had promised himself not to break down again. He didn't have a right to break down over something that was his own fault. There was no way he wanted to make others worry about him when he didn't deserve it. He had to bear it alone and be what people expected him to be. Sarcastic, smart and not having any feelings deeper than a teaspoon. He could do it, he could fool everyone. He'd been fooling everyone for eight years. 

The funeral was in the afternoon. Stiles had been to school earlier, already dressed in his all black clothes. Allison had looked concerned but she hadn't asked if Stiles was okay. She probably realized what a stupid question that was. He'd been surrounded by his new friends the entire day. Jackson still acted like an asshole but that was more a relief than anything else. If there was something that Jackson understood, it was the need for normalcy. Perhaps it came with being adopted, or maybe Jackson was more insightful than anyone gave him credit for. Being a douchebag was a choice, just like Lydia acted clueless though she was far from it. 

Maybe Stiles fit in with his new group of friends more than he'd realized. They were all acting in some way, hiding their true nature from others to stay afloat. The only exception was Allison who seemed to actually be just as sweet and a bit naive like she acted in front of others. Another thing she had in common with Scott. He had been an absolutely terrible actor. It had always made Stiles feel a little bad whenever he'd lied to Scott, saying that he was okay and Scott would take it at face value. 

At least Stiles would never have to lie to Scott anymore. He'd just have to lie to his dad, his new friends and everyone else he came across. Whenever someone asked him if he was okay, he would say yes and no matter how many years passed by it would always be a lie. There was no coming back from this; there could never be an okay again. 

There was a wake after the funeral but Stiles didn't want to go. He didn't know any of Scott's relatives, except for Mrs. McCall, and he felt like he had no place being there while they all mourned. _Hi, I'm the one who managed to get Scott killed, nice to meet you._ Stiles said goodbye to Mrs. McCall who gave him a careful hug, mindful of the bruises that covered his shoulder and parts of his chest and arm. She hadn't said anything about the injury to the sheriff, which Stiles was grateful for. Maybe she just assumed that his dad already knew. 

On the way to the car, Stiles spotted Isaac who stood half hidden behind a statue, hands shoved into the pockets of a new leather jacket. Isaac looked serious and a bit sad and he nodded at Stiles before he turned around and walked away. 

"What's wrong, son?" Sheriff Stilinski asked when he noticed that Stiles had stopped walking. 

"Nothing," Stiles said quickly and they got into car while he successfully hid a wince from his dad. 

They went home and ate some of the leftovers from the previous day. Derek had really cooked a lot of the stuff. The sheriff had been surprised at seeing it when he came home from work, but he was too grateful to question when Stiles had gotten so good at cooking. Stiles was decent at making simple stuff but nothing he made came out as nicely as Derek's cooking. It was strange because Stiles seemed more like the type who would be good at stuff like that. Though that was just stereotyping and what did stereotypes really mean in the end? Nothing, nothing at all.

Stiles ate mechanically and before he knew it, he'd already eaten everything on his plate. His fork made a terrible squeaking noise as it connected with the plate and Stiles stared dumbly at it. He hadn't eaten this much since Scott's death. 

"I'll take care of the dishes, you go get some rest," Sheriff Stilinski said.

"Thanks," Stiles said and escaped to his room where he practically collapsed onto his desk chair. 

He still had homework to take care of and he opened a book at random, staring at the pages. His thoughts all revolved around Scott and his guilt, like they did almost every second of the day. Though now it was worse and he couldn't focus on anything that was written on the pages. He had no idea how long he sat there.

***

In the morning Stiles woke up in bed with no clue of how he got there. He was wearing the black t-shirt he'd worn the previous day, but his pants and sweatshirt hung on the back of the chair. Confused, he rolled out of bed and found a note from his dad on the desk. 

_Stiles,_  
You fell asleep at your desk yesterday so I put you to bed. Don't worry about school today, I called in and told them that you need rest. They were very understanding. Get rest but don't forget to do your homework.  
Love, dad 

Stiles sighed and traced his fingers over the note. He must have really conked out if he hadn't even noticed his dad bringing him over to the bed and taking off his clothes. That was really embarrassing, but at least he had to be grateful that the sheriff hadn't taken off his t-shirt to find the massive bruises. Stiles dragged himself to the shower, squirming in discomfort at having to lift his arms above his head, and then at the water pounding down on him. It was a comfort at the same time as it hurt, though, and it made Stiles relax marginally. 

After getting dressed in clean clothes (why did he have so many with bright, obnoxious colors?), he went down to the kitchen to eat breakfast and take his Adderall. Breakfast was just a slice of toast with nothing on it, but it was better than nothing. 

He dragged himself back upstairs and sat down at his desk to actually do some homework. It worked for an hour or so but then he became increasingly restless. He bounced his legs and tapped his pen against his notebook. Nothing of value entered his brain, not that anything he had to learn at school would be valuable later in life. He sighed and let go of the pen, watching as it rolled off the desk and landed on the floor. 

The sheriff still hadn't given the keys to the jeep back to Stiles, but that wouldn't stop Stiles from leaving the house. He grabbed his jacket and slipped into his sneakers, walking out of the house with no goal in his mind. There was just too much energy coursing through his body after the incredibly long sleep he'd had. If there was something that was dangerous, it was Stiles combined with too much energy. He needed an outlet and something that would clear his mind. 

Stiles really had no idea how he ended up walking into the woods again. Maybe it was because he thought that he had to stay away from people, and where else could he be completely alone? Of course he wasn't exactly alone in the forest either. There was a wild animal that kept mauling people, and there were freaky hunters that pointed rifles at him. Then there was Derek Hale. 

Now, though, all Stiles could hear was birdsong, his own breathing and the crunch of leaves getting crushed beneath his feet. It was peaceful and the animal had only attacked people when it was dark outside so it was probably safe. All Stiles had to do was stay out of the way of people who were possibly in the woods, still looking for the lost half of the body. Maybe they'd given up on that now. Perhaps they'd already searched everywhere and given it up as a lost cause, figuring that the animal had eaten the lost half. The thought made Stiles feel ill to his stomach. 

Stiles let his feet bring him wherever they wanted, which is why he was surprised that he ended up standing in front of the old Hale house. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised him, seeing as he naturally seemed to gravitate towards Derek when he was the most upset. Or was it Derek who just showed up whenever Stiles needed someone so he could pull himself together? 

Derek wasn't there, though, and Stiles sat down on the front steps. There wasn't any birdsong in the clearing and the ruin towering behind him felt more than eerie. The place was a reminder of painful death and Stiles imagined he could smell smoke. He wondered how Derek could stand being there when it affected _Stiles_ so strongly. Stiles hadn't had any ties to the Hale family. He'd seen them around and he remembered Derek as a bit of a loner, except when he was hanging out with his sister, Laura. She'd survived the fire, too, and Stiles wondered where she was now.

It had been around lunchtime when Stiles woke up and a few hours had passed since then. That meant that it was already getting darker and he should probably go home. Instead he hugged his knees to his chest with his right arm, the left hanging down with his palm pressed against the wood of the porch. The place was a reminder of death and so Stiles felt like he belonged there. He should never be free from its presence. 

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there when he heard the rumble of an engine. His head snapped up from where he'd been resting his forehead against his knees. The Camaro came into view and Stiles swore under his breath. He was in trouble. Derek parked the car with a bit of distance from the house and got out. Stiles could feel the force of Derek's glare even with lots of space between them.

"I told you not to come here," Derek said as he walked closer to Stiles with long strides that were unfairly intimidating. 

"I know, but you should know that I'm really bad at doing what I'm told," Stiles said, looking sheepish. "I really didn't mean to end up here but my feet have a life of their own apparently. I just needed to get away for a while, I'm sorry."

"Isaac said that you weren't in school today," Derek said and Stiles’ eyes widened because he definitely hadn't been expecting that.

"Is Isaac stalking me now? Because if it's some kind of guilt over the lacrosse practice thing you can tell him that it's okay, I'm fine."

"He says that you hang out with the popular kids at school so it's kind of hard not to notice when you're not there." Derek sat down next to Stiles, their arms almost touching. 

"Oh, yeah. It's kind of weird because they never used to even acknowledge me if it wasn't to be mean to me. And I've had a crush on one of them, Lydia Martin, for years and now she actually talks to me, which would be amazing if it wasn't for the fact that my best friend had to die for it to happen." Stiles let out a choked laugh. "There's also the fact that she's dating Jackson Whittemore so I have to see them sucking face all of the time. It was much easier to hate Jackson when he wasn't kind of my friend, you know? He's still an ass but I see the way he looks at Lydia when he thinks that no one will notice. They seem to hate each other most of the time but... I guess they kind of really do love each other."

Stiles paused to sigh and take a few deep breaths. He glanced at Derek who wasn't glaring anymore at least, but he didn't look very happy either. Though he didn't say anything or interrupt Stiles, so Stiles figured that it would be okay to continue talking.

"Other than that there's Danny Maehalani. His name is a bit of a tongue twister if you try to say it really fast. I guess that's rich coming from me, but my last name is more weird than hard to pronounce when you say it quickly. Danny is my lab partner in chemistry class, and I think he doesn't like me very much. Then there's the rest of Jackson's posse but they seem kind of interchangeable and I don't care about them. Oh, and Allison Argent is new in town, she kind of dragged me into it all because I let her borrow a pen."

Even though Stiles was focused on just rambling to avoid any unpleasant thoughts, he couldn't help but to notice Derek's flinch when he mentioned Allison. He frowned and looked at Derek with confusion in his eyes. 

"Do you know Allison?" he asked.

"No," Derek said curtly and it didn't seem like a lie but Stiles knew that there had to be something more behind it.

"Her dad is that weird hunter that kind of threatened me last Friday in the woods," Stiles said. "I'm pretty sure he had a crossbow. Who hunts with a crossbow these days? We aren't actually living in the middle ages anymore. Have you met Mr. Argent?"

"Yes, I have."

That explained the reaction that Derek had had to Allison's name. Not that Mr. Argent hadn't been perfectly nice when he'd driven Stiles to the hospital, but he was not the kind of man you'd like to meet in the forest at nighttime. Stiles would say that neither was Derek, but Derek was actually kind of nice in a murderous, scowling way. He was nice when he wasn't telling Stiles to stay away from him at least.

"How is Isaac doing?" Stiles asked, thinking that it was safer to change the subject. "I mean, it's got to be tough with his father in the hospital and all. I know it really sucked when my mom was in the hospital. It's not the same thing, though, and Mr. Lahey will live. He will live, won't he?"

"He'll survive," Derek said noncommittally. "Isaac's fine."

"I just hope he's not ramming into anymore people at lacrosse practice. Though I guess no one would get as hurt as I did. I'm pretty much the worst member of the team. I don't even know why I bother. I thought it was a thing that would make people notice me, you know? I thought I'd become good at it and maybe I'd get some of the same kind of glory that Jackson has. Maybe get the girl. Life doesn't work out that way, though, I know that. It's not like the movies with an inspirational montage, and I don't take off my glasses and let my hair out and suddenly I'm hot. I'll just always be this." Stiles gestured at himself. 

"You wear glasses?" Derek asked, frowning.

Seriously? That was the thing that Derek chose to latch onto? Stiles stared at Derek with an incredulous expression. 

"Don't tell me you've never seen romantic comedies where there's this nerdy girl who the popular guy dates on a bet, then she turns out to be actually hot and they fall in love?" Stiles asked and then continued, "Oh, what am I thinking? Of course you haven't. I bet you only watch movies with a lot of violence in them. Actually, do you watch movies at all?"

Derek shrugged. "Not lately."

"That's a total tragedy, man. We should remedy this. I'll make you watch ridiculously clichéd romance movies, and I'll make sarcastic remarks until your eyebrows actually relax. I have no hope of you smiling but at least your eyebrows might stop being quite so close to your eyes."

Derek quirked an eyebrow at Stiles who shook his head and pointed at Derek's face.

"That doesn't count because it's still not relaxed," Stiles said. "I'm good at making people smile. Either smile or tell me to shut up, or both. In any case, I'm good at distracting people, you know? I bet I could make you smile at least once with my mouth. That totally came out wrong but you know what I mean."

"Can you make yourself smile?" Derek asked and it sort of felt like a punch to Stiles' gut. 

Stiles smiled all the time, it was what he did when he was sad or nervous or afraid. He talked and smiled because then maybe no one would notice how broken he was on the inside. Maybe he wouldn't notice. Then Derek had to sit there with his stupid eyebrows and dark stubble and intense eyes and bring it all to the surface. It was just below the surface all the time but Derek found the cracks and peeled them open. Somehow it felt impossible for Stiles to hide, and oddly enough he was kind of okay with that. Okay with the fact that he had one person who it was okay to be not okay with. 

"Not really," Stiles said, looking away. "I smile all the time, but not really. Are you, like, a therapist or something? You're way too scary to be one and you obviously don't care, so why are you doing all these things for me? You could have left me in the woods that day, or I don't know... not taken me home all those times. I don't get why you're doing this."

"I don't know," Derek said, sighing. He got to his feet and walked towards the Camaro. "Come on."

Stiles felt like he'd messed up again. He shouldn't have started questioning Derek about his motives. It seemed like he could accuse Derek of being a murderer or be sarcastic as much as he wanted, but as soon as he got too close and wanted to know something real, Derek shut down. Honestly it bothered Stiles more than it should, considering that they were strangers and he usually talked himself out of answering serious questions. He understood the need to keep the real things locked up inside, but Derek seemed too closed off, like he hadn't shared something real with anyone for a very long time. Perhaps not since the fire. 

Derek reached the Camaro and turned around to give Stiles an impatient glare. Stiles got to his feet and brushed any eventual dirt off of his jeans with his right hand. He jumped off the steps and jogged over to the car. This time he had to open the door and buckle his seatbelt on his own, but it was okay because his shoulder didn't hurt as much anymore. It had only freaked him out when Derek had done it for him anyway. 

"You don't have to drive me home, you know," Stiles said. "It is getting dark but I'm pretty sure nothing is going to attack me."

Derek looked at him sharply, "What makes you say that?"

"Life wants me to suffer so I can't die yet," Stiles said flippantly and he could swear that Derek actually _growled_ at him. Who actually growled for real? "Okay, fine, you're driving me home and life doesn't want me to suffer. It's not safe for me to walk in the woods, I get it."

The first minutes of the drive were silent. As silent as they could be with Stiles drumming his fingers against the dashboard. Derek's eyebrows did the thing they did when he was even more angry than usual, then Derek reached out to turn on the radio. It was tuned to a station that played classic rock. It was no surprise considering the car and the leather jacket and dressing in a lot of monochromatic colors. 

"Hey, do you happen to know Dean Winchester?" Stiles asked and Derek rolled his eyes. "Ha, you actually got that reference, didn't you? I'm proud of you, dude, really proud. You don't seem overly fond of hunters, though, so maybe you and Dean are sworn enemies or something. So, do you like any other kind of music?"

"You can switch stations if you like," Derek said. 

"Not what I was implying. I'm trying to have a conversation with you. You know, the thing where I talk, possibly ask you a question, and then you answer that question and keep talking. I know that this is hard for you because you probably have a quota for how many words you can say on a day, but maybe we could ease you into it."

"I don't have a preference."

"Really?" Stiles raised an eyebrow. "So if I said that I wanted to listen to Britney Spears or Backstreet Boys or something, you'd be fine with it?"

"Stiles, shut up."

"You did say that you don't have a preference so now I'm going to assume that you love cheesy pop. Who doesn't? Anyone who says that they don't have a soft spot for boy bands is a liar. So, is it only in music that you don't have a preference or does that apply to all areas of your life?" Stiles only belatedly realized how that could be interpreted and tried his best not to blush, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. "Uh, I, um... I didn't mean it in that way. I just meant... things like food or movies. I did not at all mean your sexual orientation."

Stiles glanced at Derek whose expression changed from frowning and confused to realization. That was when Stiles realized that Derek hadn't even caught on to the possible implication of that question until he pointed it out. He contemplated opening the door and throwing himself out of the moving car, but Derek pulled up in front of Stiles' house and it was too late. 

"Well, this has been a lot of fun," Stiles said with fake cheer. "Thanks for the ride; I'll just go somewhere that's away from you now. Bye!" 

He practically threw the car door open and tried to get out, belatedly realizing that he hadn't unbuckled the seatbelt. It dug into his body and he collapsed back into the seat with a wheeze. By then he was sure that his face was actually as red as a tomato. Drowning in guilt and sadness might actually be preferable to this kind of distraction. Derek arched an eyebrow at him as he fumbled to unbuckle his seatbelt.

"I'm staying at Isaac's until his father is released from the hospital," Derek said, unprompted. "If you really want to see me, you can ask him to take you with him after school."

"I didn't go to your house because I really wanted to see you," Stiles said, gaping at Derek. "I went there because I let my feet lead me and without thinking I ended up there. I know that it might be pretty damning that I go to your place when I'm not thinking about where I'm going, but to be fair it's really close to where my best friend died." He stopped to take a deep breath. "I just couldn't feel close to him at all at his grave, but in the forest it's... different. It's got nothing to do with you."

"Okay." Derek's face was closed off again, more forbidding and once again Stiles felt like he'd made a huge mistake. 

It wasn't that he minded seeing Derek, not at all. He hadn't meant to imply that it was something that would be horrible to do. It was just that he really hadn't gone to the ruin of the Hale house with the intention of seeing Derek. The fact that it had happened was both a bonus and a source of embarrassment, all at the same time. 

"I might stop by pretty soon, if it's okay," Stiles said carefully, afraid that Derek would reject him now. "I mean, I could hang out with my other new friends if I don't feel like being alone, I guess. But I don't feel like seeing the girl of my dreams in the arms of the douche who is now my friend, and Danny doesn't like me all that much. I'm too scared to go hang out with Allison because Mr. Argent is kind of terrifying, and I can't ask her to come to my house. I've never had a girl in my room; I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

Stiles realized that he'd just made a list of why he couldn't go see the other people in his life, which pretty much implied that Derek was the last option. Derek's expression was kind of a mix of deadly glare and constipation. Stiles hadn't meant to do that. It was far too embarrassing to admit that he actually might want to see Derek without any real reasons, though, so he got out of the car without saying anything else. 

"Thanks again," Stiles said, closing the passenger door.

He took a few steps back and then Derek was driving away. Maybe there was a person more awkward than Stiles in this world and that person was Derek. Stiles wondered if Derek even had any friends, and then he remembered Isaac. Though Derek said that Isaac had been his cousin's friend, so maybe he hadn't actually ever had a friend of his own. 

The thought was kind of sad, especially with what had happened to Derek's family. Life must be really tough without any friends around to help. Then again, Stiles did have friends and he would never admit to them how terrible he was actually feeling. It seemed like he could only admit it to the glaring and mostly silent older guy, who should have better things to do than listen to depressed teenagers. Stiles sighed and went inside, preparing himself to be overwhelmed by the crushing feeling of guilt in the solitude of his room. 

***

Thursday was pretty normal. The new kind of normal which meant Stiles hanging out with the popular gang. None of them acknowledged the fact that Scott's funeral had been Tuesday, or the fact that Stiles hadn't been at school on Wednesday, but Allison looked at him with sad puppy eyes. Sad puppy eyes were pretty much her default expression, though, so it didn't bother Stiles too much. 

There was going to be a lacrosse game on Friday, but Stiles wasn't even close to being first line so he didn't think much about it. He couldn't even participate in practice yet because of his aching shoulder. During lunch, Jackson, Danny and some other guys from the team were discussing strategies and how awesome they were as players. At least Jackson was bragging about his prowess while Lydia looked at him with a disgusting amount of lust. 

Stiles decided that it was safest to talk to Allison, because she wasn't really into lacrosse and she seemed mostly amused at Jackson's self-love. Anyone who was amused by it instead of another mindless admirer was a good person in Stiles' book.

"You're coming to watch the game, though, right?" Stiles asked Allison as he poked around in his unappetizing cafeteria food. "Lydia will probably drag you there by your hair if you don't come to admire Jackson. Though don't admire him too much or she'll get jealous."

Allison laughed and wrinkled her nose. "I don't think she would be that extreme," she said. "But yes, I am coming to watch the game. I'll look at your back while you're sitting on the bench too, if you want me to. I can cheer for your very impressive sitting skills."

"I think you've spent far too much time with Jackson already." Stiles put a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended. "What have they done to you, my sweet Allison? Why must you hurt me in this way?"

Allison laughed again and Stiles laughed with her even though he didn't feel any true joy. It was nice being able to make her laugh, it meant that he hadn't slipped completely and the cracks in his mask weren't so obvious. He still had quite of a love affair with Allison's dimples, too. Of course Allison had nothing on Lydia, but there was no way that Lydia's smile could ever be called sweet. Stiles found himself wondering if Derek would have dimples if he smiled, and was then freaked out by even having such a thought. 

Thinking of Derek, Stiles' gaze wandered across the cafeteria and his gaze landed on Isaac. Isaac was sitting alone at a table, staring intently at him in a way that reminded him way too much of a certain other person. It seemed like other habits of Derek had rubbed off on Isaac, because he was wearing a leather jacket that Stiles was pretty sure he hadn't had before. Stiles raised an eyebrow at Isaac who shrugged and turned his gaze away. 

"Was that guy checking you out?" Allison asked, sounding confused and Stiles was pretty sure that he should be offended but didn't even bother.

"No, uh, I don't think so," Stiles said, blushing. "That's Isaac, the guy who rammed into me." His blush turned a darker shade of red. "The guy who tackled me at lacrosse practice! Nothing else, god!"

Everyone sitting at the table, and some from other tables, was now staring at him and he sank down in his seat. He would love for the ground to open up and swallow him. Maybe he should have asked to be buried along with Scott, make the process easier. Fuck, how could he even think about it like that? He felt slightly sick.

"Maybe he would love to ram into you outside of lacrosse practice, Stilinski," Jackson said with a leer and Stiles flipped him off.

"Shut up, Jackson," he said without any real heat to his words. "I'm sure he just feels bad about what happened."

"Yeah, you're probably right, who would want to touch you even with a ten foot pole?"

"I doubt that Isaac's pole is that long," Lydia said with fake sweetness and Stiles really hated his new friends. "Maybe you should try getting a peek in the locker room."

"I hate you all," Stiles said, glaring at them. "I seriously hate you. I do not in any way want to sleep with Isaac Lahey. We will never speak of this again. Just because I have a tendency to put my foot into my mouth, it doesn't mean that you can take what I'm saying and run a mile with it."

"I'm sure your foot isn't the only thing you want in your mouth," Jackson said with a smirk that clearly showed how pleased he was with himself for being so witty.

"If you keep saying things like those I'll start thinking that you're the one who wants to have sex with me," Stiles said flatly and Danny, who sat next to him, snorted. Stiles felt oddly pleased at having been able to make Danny sort of laugh. "Just drop it, dude."

"As if you could ever get some of this," Jackson said, gesturing to himself before placing his arm around Lydia's shoulders. "I doubt you could get Lahey even if he has the hots for you. I've seen some older dude go into his house in the evenings. Big, kind of creepy, but I guess he'd be hot if I were into guys. Nothing like you, Stilinski." 

Stiles thought about saying that he knew that Derek was only a friend to Isaac, but decided against it. "How do you know who goes into Isaac's house in the evenings?"

"Because Lahey lives on the same street as me. It's been a bit more peaceful since his dad got mauled by the animal, but sometimes I still hear things crashing, like they're throwing stuff. Maybe that older guy is rough with him." 

"What are you talking about?" Allison asked, frowning.

"Mr. Lahey is always shouting at Isaac and I'm pretty sure he beats him too," Jackson said with a shrug, as if it wasn't a big deal. 

"And you haven't called the police or anything?" Stiles asked incredulously. 

"Hey, it's not my problem." Jackson frowned. "I don't want anything to do with that. If Lahey wanted his dad to go to prison or something, I'm pretty sure he would call the police himself."

Stiles wanted to point out everything that was wrong with that statement but decided not to. It was pointless arguing with Jackson, and there was nothing they could do while Mr. Lahey was in the hospital anyway. What worried Stiles was that Jackson had heard signs of violence while only Derek and Isaac were in the house. He didn't think that Derek was actually beating Isaac up or anything. 

Isaac had used to change in the bathroom or somewhere else no one could see him. Stiles realized why and felt like an idiot because he hadn't questioned it before, but how was he supposed to know? The point was that Isaac didn't hide anymore, changing together with everyone else and he didn't have any bruises. Maybe he was letting all the anger about his father out by throwing things. Stiles hoped that Derek was helping Isaac in his own awkward and scowling way. 

"Maybe we should ask him to eat lunch together with us tomorrow," Allison said. "He seems pretty lonely."

"We're not going to invite every social cripple to sit with us," Lydia said. "No offense, Stiles."

"None taken," Stiles said with a wide smile. "I know for a fact that I'm not a social cripple and you love spending time with me." He counted it as a victory that Lydia merely rolled her eyes and didn't dispute his statement. "Isaac seems like a pretty cool guy, though, just a bit silent. Danny's pretty silent too and we're not calling him a social cripple."

"Because I can crush people with a single finger," Danny said and Stiles chuckled nervously. 

"Well, yeah, but let's not forget who recently turned my entire shoulder into a bruise. I think Isaac can hold his own pretty well too. It was kind of a surprise since he's never really done anything during practice before, but he seems kind of strong. Before you say that anyone is strong compared to me, remember who you keep tackling every week at practice and who's never had to go to the hospital before. What’s that you say? Me? Oh, yeah, that's right."

"He's right," Danny said.

"Thanks, man," Stiles said, patting Danny on the shoulder. "I also want to end this entire conversation about Isaac with the fact that I don't care if he's attracted to me, seeing as I'm completely into girls. I'm flattered but definitely not interested."

"So, Stiles, who are you interested in?" Lydia asked and fixed him with an entirely too intense stare. 

Stiles spluttered and blushed, looking down at the table. "That's not important."

"Stilinski's right, it's not important," Jackson said. "This conversation has revolved around him for far too long now. Let's get back to talking about the actual important people at this table, okay?"

The conversation moved back to lacrosse and the general awesomeness of Jackson. Stiles was actually grateful because he couldn't function normally when Lydia looked at him like that. He was trying to get over her due to actually sort of being her friend now, and realizing how devastatingly hopeless his crush on her actually was. Besides, he had much more important things to be depressed about than some stupid crush, even if that crush was on Lydia Martin. Perhaps she'd disagree but Stiles would never ever tell her about how pathetically in love he really was. 

Lunch break finally ended and Stiles could get away with being silent. Of course he was never entirely silent, clicking his pen or tapping it against the desk while bouncing his leg. It earned him several glares from different people during every class but he couldn't help it. He had to get it out somehow and the methods he chose were preferable over talking out loud, or simply getting up from his seat and pacing back and forth. 

Last class for the day was chemistry and Mr. Harris ordered them to do an experiment. He never asked or even told his students to do stuff, they were always orders. Stiles and Danny stood on either sides of their table, carefully conducting the experiments according to the instructions. Well, Danny was careful while Stiles kind of flailed about and tried not to knock anything over. 

"So, Danny, I think we've got some chemistry going on between us," Stiles said with a goofy smile and Danny just looked at him blankly until the smile disappeared. "No chemistry jokes, got it." He was silent for a while as he fiddled with the Bunsen burner. "Do you find me attractive?" More silent staring from Danny. "No, seriously, do you find me attractive? I need to know."

"No, Stiles," Danny said. "Focus."

"Do you think gay guys in general would find me attractive?"

Danny let his gaze run over the parts of Stiles that he could see with the table between them. "Possibly. Isaac's not gay, though."

"How do you know?" Stiles asked, leaning against the table and narrowly escaped setting his sleeve on fire. "Not that I'm asking this because of him, because I was serious when I said that I'm not interested in him. I was also serious when I said that I'm into girls, because I am. Like, really, _really_ into girls."

"He told me once. And Stiles, I don't need to know what you do in your spare time." 

"Got it." 

They went back to the experiment and Mr. Harris only glared at Stiles half as much as he usually would. It had to be thanks to Danny's calming influence or something. Stiles loved Danny, though not in a gay way. He was definitely not gay. At some point he even wanted to tell his own brain to shut up, because this fixation was becoming annoying. 

***

After school on Friday, Stiles had a lot of time on his hands. There wouldn't be lacrosse practice because of the game later in the evening, so he got home early. He didn't even have a pressing amount of homework to do. Having too much time on his hands was something that Stiles was really starting to dislike. 

Maybe he should have asked Allison if she wanted to hang out, but she was almost definitely going to hang out with Lydia before the game. Stiles didn't think that he would be welcome during their girl time, even though neither of them probably even considered him as a guy. He was probably more like a pet to them, an ugly pet that they couldn't even coo at, just maybe look at pityingly and give him scraps now and then. These depressing thoughts about his attractiveness, or lack of it, needed to stop. 

Against his thoughts that it was a really bad idea, Stiles ended up traipsing into the woods again. It was still light out; no animal would attack him and if Derek was staying at Isaac's house there was no chance that he'd show up. The fact that Derek had shown up the other times was just total coincidence and wouldn't happen again. 

Just that when Stiles got closer to the Hale house something was clearly wrong. He saw the sheriff's car - his father's car - and a bunch of police officers swarm around the house. Crouching down, Stiles snuck closer, weaving between the trees and knelt down behind a bush right next to the clearing. 

Sheriff Stilinski and the cops were looking into a hole in the ground with a pile of dirt beside it. Someone had dug up something but what? Stiles couldn't hear everything they said, but one of the cops said something about the body having been there for a while. Holy shit, they had found the other half of the body. Next to Derek's old family home. That couldn't be right. When Stiles had thought that Derek might be a killer, he hadn't really been serious about it.

There was the shape of someone in the back of the sheriff's car. Without stopping to think, Stiles snuck past the cops while they were still facing the other way, opened the door to the passenger seat and got in. He turned around, kneeling in the seat, and came face to face with a pale and scowling Derek. 

"Um, hi," Stiles said in a high pitched voice, licking his lips. He placed a hand on the partition between the front and the back and leaned closer to look into Derek's eyes. "I'm not afraid of you."

Derek's scowl deepened and Stiles' heart skipped a beat because he was scared, but he wouldn't admit that. He didn't want to believe that Derek was a murderer. There was no way that the person who'd helped him all those times was someone that would kill an innocent girl. The situation kind of made him doubt Derek's innocence, though, and he wanted to know the truth. 

"Derek, did you kill that girl?" 

"No," Derek said through clenched teeth. 

"Okay, the circumstances are pretty incriminating, seeing as the body was buried right next to your house. You do have this serial killer vibe going on, and if looks could kill I would definitely be dead by now. Despite all of that, I believe you."

Derek, who'd been giving Stiles his best deadly glare, now looked shocked. "What?"

"I believe that you didn't kill her," Stiles said and had to smile at Derek's completely baffled expression.

"Why?"

"It's just a gut feeling, you know. And you could have killed me several times already if you wanted to. I know I talked about the possibility of you being a killer before, but I don't think you are. So, I believe you."

Derek looked confused and conflicted, as if no one had ever believed in him before. The thought made Stiles sad. He pressed his hand harder against the partition, wishing he could somehow push through and touch Derek's shoulder in a comforting gesture. 

"There's a lacrosse game tonight, right?" Derek asked and Stiles frowned.

"Yeah, why?"

"Can you tell Isaac that it's going to be alright? I'll be released soon so he should stay calm and not do anything stupid."

It was probably the first time Stiles had heard Derek say so many words at the same time. Derek's concern for Isaac strengthened Stiles' belief that he couldn't have murdered the girl. Obviously not all killers were unfeeling machines that had no one they cared about, but Derek looked the part too much to be an actual murderer. 

"Alright, I'll tell-" Stiles was interrupted by the car door being opened and then he was tugged out of the seat.

He flailed with his arms to land on his feet and stay upright. Coming face to face with his obviously pissed off dad was not in any way fun. 

"Stiles, what do you think you're doing?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, sounding like he was trying to contain some of his anger as not to make a scene. 

"Um, talking to the murder suspect?" Stiles said sheepishly. "I know that he's innocent, though."

"How can you possibly know that? Do you know him?"

"Yeah, kind of, a little bit."

"How do you know him, Stiles?" The sheriff still looked incredibly angry. 

"Well, I kind of bumped into him a couple of times while taking walks and we talked a bit. He's actually very nice," Stiles said, though that was sort of exaggerating a lot. "I know he looks kind of scary but once you talk to him it's different."

"When and why were you taking walks? You've been at school or at home the last couple of weeks, and when you weren't I know where you were."

"Uh... I kind of went out for walks when I was at home from school. I needed to clear my mind a bit, have something to distract me."

Sheriff Stilinski pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where have you been taking these walks of yours?"

"In the woods?" Stiles' voice was squeaky and he took a step back under the force of his dad's glare. 

"A wild animal has been attacking people and a possible murder has occurred in the preserve, and you decide that it's a good place to take walks? Stiles, you bumped into someone who's now arrested for the suspicion of murder. You could have been killed!"

"Derek is not the murderer."

"That's not the point! How could you think walking in the forest was a good idea? Don't you remember what happened to Scott?" Sheriff Stilinski paled, realizing that that was not the right thing to say. "Son..."

Stiles held up a hand to stop his dad from saying anything and looked away. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed several times to keep it down. He could feel cold sweat breaking out all over his body.

"I wouldn't take walks if I had the keys to my jeep," he said, voice barely more than a whisper. "I just need to get out of the house sometimes."

The sheriff took the keys to Stiles' jeep from his pocket and handed them to Stiles. "I'll get someone to drive you home now," he said.

"No." Stiles shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll walk."

He practically ran from the place, ignoring his dad calling after him. The walk there had already been tiring but it didn't really matter. Even if he'd end up exhausted, he wasn't playing in tonight's game anyway and he'd drive his jeep there. He wanted to skip going to the game but Allison would worry even if no one else did, and he'd told - or been about to tell - Derek that he'd give Isaac the message. Life seriously sucked and yet he felt an obligation to keep breathing. Scott couldn't. 

***

Stiles left home earlier than he had to. He didn't want his dad to come home before he could leave. The sheriff would probably show up to the game. He came to as many as he could even though Stiles never even entered the field. At least in a public place with lots of people around, there was less chance of them having an ugly confrontation. Stiles didn't know if he could handle another one so soon. It was all he could do to keep himself together. 

He was the first one in the locker room and he slowly got changed, thankful for the peace and quiet. Before he'd never valued such things, reveling in chaotic situations and craving for things to happen constantly. He hadn't realized how nice it had been when things didn't happen. When things didn't change and he had a comfortable routine in his life, spending as much time as he could together with Scott.

The door to the locker room opened and Stiles flinched and quickly turned to check who it was. Isaac stopped just inside of the door, looking at Stiles with wide eyes before going to his locker. Stiles followed him and felt kind of like a creeper while doing so. 

"Hey man," he said awkwardly. "Um, Derek told me to tell you that everything's alright and he'll be released soon, so stay calm and don't do anything stupid."

"You've seen Derek?" Isaac asked, pausing mid movement to stare at Stiles. 

"Yeah, I was there when he was arrested. Do you know that he was arrested? They found the other half of the, um, the body buried next to his house. I think they got an anonymous tip from someone or something. But Derek didn't kill her and they'll realize that and he'll be released so just stay calm, okay? They can't keep him for more than 48 hours without real evidence that he did it anyway."

Isaac looked at Stiles as if he had two heads or something, but Stiles was used to people looking at him like that so it didn't bother him. He stood next to Isaac in awkward silence for almost a minute, and then turned around to go back to his own locker. 

"Thank you," Isaac said, almost too quiet for Stiles to hear. "Thank you for telling me."

"No problem, dude," Stiles said, looking over his shoulder to give Isaac an awkward grin. 

After that, more people arrived to the locker room and the silence was filled up with the noise of teenage boys. Jackson walked in as if he owned the place and thumped Stiles on the back, though not as roughly as usual which Stiles was thankful for. He smiled weakly and gave Jackson's arm a friendly punch. 

"Ready to kick ass on the field?" he asked. 

"You know it, Stilinski," Jackson said with a smile that was almost entirely friendly. Honestly it freaked Stiles out a bit. "Are you ready to warm the bench with your ass?"

"Never talk about my ass again, Jackson," Stiles said and prompted laughter from a few of the guys around them. 

It was strange how easy it was, acting as if everything was okay. As if people had been laughing at things he said for years instead of simply being annoyed by him. Maybe they only laughed because he was Jackson's friend now and they were required to find him funny. Or perhaps they'd never laughed before because he'd been Jackson's enemy and it wasn't allowed. Either way, he could relax into it a bit more and not have to try as hard to seem okay, because this was almost familiar. 

As Stiles had thought, Sheriff Stilinski did come to the game. He gave Stiles a significant look that was a mix between 'I'm still angry at you' and 'I'm sorry for what I said'. Or at least Stiles thought that it was but he might have been reading too much into things. He looked over at Allison and Lydia instead and Allison gave him a cheerful wave that he returned. Lydia acknowledged him with a nod and he smiled at her. 

He sat down on the bench next to Isaac who was wringing his hands. His entire body seemed tense and he had a faraway expression on his face. Stiles thought that he should do or say something, but he didn't know what because it wasn't like he actually knew Isaac. Perhaps he should do what he did best: ramble to distract himself and others. Of course this had to be one of the occasions he had absolutely no idea what to say. 

The lacrosse game started and Stiles followed it distractedly. Sometimes he completely lost track of who had the ball which he usually didn't. All he could think about was how tense Isaac was next to him, and the fact that Derek was in a holding cell. How had life turned so strange so fast? He bounced his leg and bit his lip, wishing that he could be somewhere else. 

Stiles got a new focus when he heard his dad start speaking. He turned his head and saw that the sheriff was on the phone, frowning. Sheriff Stilinski didn't sit too far away from Stiles, so if Stiles strained his ears and really focused he could make out what the sheriff was saying. He noticed that Isaac was doing the same thing next to him.

"Animal bites and fur, really?" the sheriff was saying before going back to listening intently.

Stiles was on his feet in less than a second, clambering over the bench and pushing his way through the small crowd to reach his dad, not even bothering with apologies. Sheriff Stilinski had hung up by the time Stiles reached him.

"An animal attacked her?" Stiles asked breathlessly. "Do they know who she was?"

The sheriff hesitated, clearly thinking that he shouldn't tell Stiles anything but decided to go ahead in the end. "They identified her as Laura Hale, Derek's sister," he said and all the air left Stiles' lungs.

"Shit," he muttered and the sheriff gave him a halfhearted glare. "They released him, right? They know he didn't do it?"

"Yes, they've released him."

"I've got to go to him."

"Stiles, you're staying right here," the sheriff said sternly. "Go back to the bench, watch the game and afterwards you'll come straight home. Just because you've met him a couple of times, it doesn't mean that he's your responsibility or that he even wants to see you right now. And I'm grounding you."

"What?" Stiles stared at his dad, mouth hanging open. "You can't do that. You never said that I wasn't allowed to leave the house and I've done nothing wrong. There's no way you can punish me for needing to... Never mind. _Fine_ , whatever."

He sighed and went back to the bench, once again without apologies even though people complained. The bench seemed different, like there was something wrong with it. Then he realized that Isaac wasn't there anymore. Isaac must have heard their conversation and gone to find Derek. At least Derek wouldn't be alone. Stiles didn't know why he cared so much. His dad was right, Derek wasn't his responsibility. They didn't even know each other and yet Stiles wanted to see him.

The Beacon Hills high school lacrosse team won the game. Stiles cheered along with the rest of them but his heart wasn't in it. Who cared about a stupid game? He got changed with jerky, angry movements. Apparently mourning his best friend was something that got him grounded. He supposed that it really was better to bottle it all up. There was no need to bother anyone with his pain because they wouldn't understand. Where other people saw danger, Stiles saw comfort and home.


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently participating in Camp NaNoWriMo in hopes of at least getting close to finishing this fic. According to my new preliminary outline this will have nine parts in total, and I'm writing part seven at the moment. Once I've finished writing, and editing, it all I'll probably post the new parts more quickly than I'm doing now. Though I am posting this part earlier than intended already.

The weekend passed by silently. Stiles spent most of the time in his room, not wanting to leave it when his dad was at home. He surfed random pages on his computer, watched movies and played games but nothing could keep his attention for too long. At one point he actually listened to music, surfed the internet and watched a movie all at the same time. It didn't work out too well and he had to give it up when his dad knocked on his door, complaining about the noise. 

Being at school felt much better than being holed up in his room. He hung out with his new friends whenever there was a break and he got along swimmingly with Allison. She was almost ridiculously sweet, when she didn't get infected by the 'let's tease Stiles about everything' virus that Jackson seemed to have. Not that he didn't give back at least as good as he got. 

When Wednesday arrived, Stiles definitely felt like an accepted member of the popular gang. People made room for him when he was walking through a hallway, even if he wasn't next to one of the other popular students. Did he actually qualify as popular now? That thought was really freaky. 

He'd always just been Stiles, the weird hyperactive kid that no one could stand. Then he'd been a part of Scott-and-Stiles. Now he was Stiles, a guy who could make people move out of the way and who was checked out by girls. The first time it had happened he'd thought that he had something on his face, but Allison assured him that the girls just found him cute. He thought to himself that they just found his popularity cute, or they'd been checking him out before now. 

"We should go on a date," Lydia said as they sat at their usual table in the cafeteria.

She was looking straight at Stiles when she said it and he gaped at her. He impersonated a goldfish for several seconds until Lydia rolled her eyes and clarified.

"The four of us," she said, making a gesture between herself and Jackson before she gestured at Stiles and Allison. "We should go on a double date on Friday."

Stiles felt his face burn and he glanced at Allison who had ducked her head, looking just as embarrassed as he felt. "Uh, I don't know," he said slowly. "Is that really such a good idea?"

"Stiles is right, we're not..." Allison began, looking very uncomfortable as she glanced at Stiles. "Right? You don't think we're..."

"No, I definitely don't think we're," Stiles said as if that made any kind of sense as a sentence. "Don't get me wrong, you're totally awesome but I really don't see you that way. I, um, I have someone else I like and I don't think I'll get over her for a long time. And we're friends, I mean, you and I. It would be weird."

"Oh, yeah, totally," Allison said, looking relieved. "You're really cute but my feelings for you are completely platonic."

Lydia looked at the both of them, a displeased twist to her mouth. "Really? I think you guys would be really cute together. Huh. Anyway, we're going out on Friday. I don't care if you're just friends or cousins or something, we are going out. Jackson just sticks to me like a leech whenever we're alone, and I would like to do some kind of activity where I actually get to focus solely on that for once."

"We do plenty of activities that you can solely focus on," Jackson said.

"I don't want to know anything about that," Stiles said quickly because his head was already swarming with images he really didn't want to have. "I don't think I can go out on Friday. I'm pretty sure my dad has grounded me for life."

"Then tell him that he has to make you not grounded because you're going out with us," Lydia said, flicking her hair behind her shoulders. "You can't stay cooped up in your gross little teenage boy room forever. You already smell like old socks, you need fresh air and a bit of sun."

Stiles sighed and tried to discreetly sniff at himself to see if he actually smelled like old socks. "I guess I can ask dad if I can go out with you guys. What are we going to do anyway?" 

"We're going to the movies." Lydia smiled.

Stiles was pretty sure that the movies involved neither fresh air nor sunlight, but he decided not to point that out. Lydia already knew that anyway and everything was just a ploy to make him come out with them. She was far too good at manipulating him. It almost made him grateful that he'd never have a chance with her; she'd completely suck him dry. That was probably the entirely wrong choice of words and Stiles needed to quickly think of something else. 

***

By some miracle, or maybe a curse, Sheriff Stilinski agreed to make Stiles not grounded anymore so he could go out with his friends. Friday made it a week since he'd been grounded anyway and he'd behaved pretty well all week. Actually, he was probably behaving better than he ever had done before with all the guilt and the depression weighing him down. 

He tried to make a bit of an effort with his clothes, even though they'd only go to the cinema and then eat afterwards. They better not go to an expensive restaurant - just because Jackson and Lydia, and maybe even Allison, practically bathed in money it didn't mean everyone did. Stiles didn't have an endless supply of money that he could use on whatever he wanted. Most of his allowance disappeared on gas, monthly subscription for an MMO, some food and occasionally even clothes. He could already image his bank account echoing empty after tonight's entertainment.

Allison would come pick Stiles up in her car because apparently his jeep wasn't deemed suitable. Or it was because they'd all be in the same car and honestly Stiles couldn't even imagine Lydia in his jeep. There was some kind of law against strawberry blonde goddesses riding in baby blue jeeps. Not that he didn't adore his jeep, but Lydia was just at a completely other level.

"Bye, son, have fun," Sheriff Stilinski said as Stiles bounded down the stairs. "Just don't have too much fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Got it," Stiles said and opened the door as Allison was already waiting for him. "Bye."

He didn't spare his dad a glance as he walked out through the door. Things had been strained and awkward between them since their fight on the Hale property. Maybe he should be more mature about it and admit that his dad had a point, but he didn't want to be mature. That and the sheriff actually asking him if he'd forgotten about Scott less than two weeks after Scott's death was too much. Stiles didn't know if he'd be able to forgive his dad for a very long time. 

"Hi, Stiles," Allison said with a sweet smile as Stiles got into her car. "How are you?"

"We actually saw each other a few hours ago at school," Stiles said, raising an eyebrow. "You know, school? Maybe you don't remember the place, it's a brick building where we sit in stuffy rooms and listen to boring people talk about boring stuff."

Allison laughed. "I know, I just didn't know what else to say. We're going to pick up Lydia and Jackson at Jackson's house. I've never been there before so can you help me find it?"

"I've never actually been to Jackson's house either. It's not like he actually liked me before you dragged me into his little gang. Actually, I don't think he likes me now either."

"You know that's not true, Stiles. We'll just have to hope that I don't drive in the completely wrong direction."

"We could use the GPS on my phone," Stiles suggested. 

"That's alright, I think it'll be fine," Allison said, smiling. "If we do get lost we'll have an excuse to be late to the cinema. We are going to watch that fantasy romance movie that honestly seems pretty terrible."

"Oh, you don't like that kind of stuff?"

"No, I'm not really into girly girl stuff."

"Hey, I totally love fantasy romance movies," Stiles said, acting offended and Allison giggled.

They made it to Jackson's house without any problems. Stiles was half surprised that Jackson didn't live in an actual mansion or something. However, it was the nicest house in the neighborhood, Stiles found out as he looked around through the car window. He did a double take when he saw a very familiar figure skulking next to one of the houses. 

"It seems like Lydia and Jackson aren't ready yet," Allison said, turning to look at Stiles. "What are you looking at?" She strained to see over Stiles' shoulder and let out a surprised gasp. "Why is that guy staring at us?"

"Um, he's kind of a friend of mine," Stiles replied and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Do you mind if I go talk to him for a minute while you get Jackson and Lydia? I'll be right back, I promise."

"Go ahead," Allison said, unbuckling her own seatbelt. "No offence, Stiles, but you have some really creepy friends."

"Don't I know it." Stiles gave Allison a quick grin before they got out of the car and went their separate ways.

"Is lurking your job or something?" Stiles asked when he got closer to Derek who was still standing in the same spot, waiting for him. "Because I got to tell you, man, you're really good at it."

"I'm not lurking," Derek said, furrowing his brow. "I was on my way inside when I heard the car and noticed that you were in it."

"Oh, well, you still look kind of creepy standing here in the shadows like some creepy axe murderer." Stiles winced. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bring that up. I'm glad that you were released so quickly. I wanted to go see you right as I heard, but my dad told me not to and then he grounded me. If I hadn't been grounded since last week I would've totally come to see you. This is actually my first night of freedom since last Friday, and I was roped into this double date thing."

"You're on a date?" Derek's frown deepened, if such a thing was even possible. "With Allison Argent?"

"It's not actually a date. Lydia wants to see this movie but she didn't want to go alone with Jackson, because he won't be able to stop groping her or something. I totally get why, I mean, have you seen Lydia? But anyway, apparently Lydia thought that Allison and I have this thing, which she's so mistaken about by the way. I really don't see Allison that way, and I'm only just now sort of getting over my stupid crush on Lydia anyway." Stiles paused to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I'm totally rambling. How are you?"

"Fine."

"Okay, that's good," Stiles said, smiling awkwardly. "How's Isaac? Has Mr. Lahey been released from the hospital yet?"

"Yes, I'm just helping Isaac with some things," Derek said, scowling at something over Stiles' shoulder. 

Stiles turned his head to see Allison stand on the front porch of Jackson's house. The front door was open so obviously Jackson and Lydia were on their way. How long could it take for them to get ready anyway? Had they been naked when Allison rang the doorbell? Stiles grimaced because that was not something he wanted to think about. He turned to look at Derek again who was now looking back at him. 

"Um, it's nice to see you again," Stiles said, licking his lips. "I really did want to see you but with the whole being grounded thing I couldn't. Maybe we can see each other soon? If you want to, you don't have to see me if you don't want to."

Derek nodded and then gestured towards Jackson's house. "Your friends are ready," he said. 

Stiles turned around to see if Derek was right, which he was, and when he turned back Derek was already walking in through the door to Isaac's house. That was rude, but Stiles hadn't expected anything else really. He just wondered whether Derek's nod meant that they would see each other soon, or if he just acknowledged that he didn't want to see Stiles again. With a sigh, Stiles jogged to where his friends were waiting in the car. 

"Why were you talking to Lahey's boyfriend?" Jackson asked when Stiles got into the car. 

"He's not Isaac's boyfriend," Stiles said, glaring at Jackson through the rearview mirror. "He's my friend. We sort of hang out at times."

That was an overstatement, or at least Stiles thought that what he and Derek did could not constitute as hanging out. It was more like Stiles breaking down or freaking out, and Derek was conveniently there to calm him down with his creepiness. Once again Stiles wondered how his life had become so strange so fast. He also wondered why he was the only one who seemed to remember Derek from when they were younger. Surely someone else had to remember the guy whose family had died in a horrible fire. 

"You hang out with that guy?" Jackson asked disbelievingly. "He's totally out of your league, Stilinski."

"I said that I hang out with him, not that I date him. I'm still very much into girls. I thought you considered yourself out of my league and yet here I am, hanging out with you. Would you look at that?"

"Shut up."

Stiles smirked and Allison giggled at their bickering. Lydia just looked bored and impatient, as if she really wanted to be in the dark movie theater where they had to shut up. It would have hurt Stiles a lot more just a couple of weeks ago, but now he found that he couldn't really care that much. Instead his thoughts were occupied by Scott and Derek, which seemed to be the two people that he thought the most about the last couple of weeks. Though that was only natural.

The movie couldn't hold Stiles' attention at all. He was seated between Jackson and Allison, Lydia sitting on Allison's other side. Apparently she really wanted to watch the movie without any interruptions. That left Jackson aggressively eating popcorn and looking like a storm cloud next to Stiles. It almost made Stiles want to offer to make out with Jackson so he wouldn't be so bored, but that would probably lead to a lot of pain and possible death. 

There was an awkward moment when Stiles and Jackson moved to grab popcorn at the same time, and their fingers almost became entwined. Stiles grinned and waggled his eyebrows while Jackson gave him a murderous glare. 

"If you want to hold my hand, all you have to do is ask," Stiles whispered and Jackson punched his arm in a way that really hurt, but it was totally worth it. 

Other than that, the movie going experience was incredibly boring. Stiles was slumped in his seat and tried not to fall asleep. If Scott had been there they could've snarked about the movie and thrown popcorn at each other, until they got scolded by the people next to them. Stiles bounced his leg until Jackson put a hand on his knee and forcibly held it in place. The only kind of touching Stiles could get was of the violent kind, wasn't that just typical? Not that he wanted any other kind of touching from Jackson, because no, not a chance. 

After the movie, they went to eat burgers and curly fries which was definitely better. Stiles was a bit surprised to see Lydia actually use her hands to eat her burger. He'd half expected her to ask for a fork and knife and eat it as if they were at a fancy restaurant. 

"Thank you for not completely ruining the experience," Lydia said with a toss of her hair. "I could practically hear you glare, Jackson. Don't do that next time."

"Then don't bring me next time," Jackson said, angrily tearing into his burger. "Just go with Allison."

"This has been my most date like experience ever," Stiles said to stop a possible fight, his mouth full of curly fries. "I especially liked it when Jackson's hand met mine while we both reached for popcorn. It was really romantic, just like in the movies."

"That really happened?" Allison asked, smiling widely. "That's priceless."

"What can I say? I'm irresistible." One of the fries fell out of Stiles' mouth and landed on the table. 

Lydia looked at him with her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Definitely," she said and he blushed, quickly chewing properly. 

The rest of the evening went along pretty smoothly. Stiles managed not to make Lydia disgusted again, and Jackson didn't kick him under the table more than once. He actually managed to make everyone laugh a couple of times, and Allison giggled at even his unfunny jokes. It was nice and normal. 

That was why it felt even more crushing when Allison dropped him off at his house. He managed to act normal and happy while talking to the sheriff. Then he dragged himself up the stairs, stripped out of his clothes and crashed in bed. He curled up and clutched the sheets tightly in his hands, focusing on simply breathing. Maybe if he was lucky, breathing would become easier after a few years like it had after his mom's death. There had still been times when it got caught in his throat, hindered by the bundle of guilt but it had gotten easier. What if he wasn't so lucky this time?

***

The weekend started slow. Stiles decided that there was no point in even getting dressed when he woke up at noon. He ate breakfast and then settled down in front of the TV, preparing to numb his mind with the drone of reruns and cooking shows. Sheriff Stilinski just looked at him wearily before he had to go to work in the afternoon. He'd be working late so Stiles had the entire house to himself for the rest of the day. Others would throw a party but he just stared listlessly at the TV.

At around six in the evening, Stiles' stomach rumbled. He didn't really feel like eating all that much even if he was hungry, so he decided to forego dinner and instead found a bag of potato chips. The TV really wasn't cutting it for him anymore and he'd spent the last hour just flicking between the channels, never really stopping to watch anything. He switched it off and walked up the stairs with heavy steps. Maybe he could spend the rest of the time until inevitably passing out by browsing random sites on his Mac. 

He stumbled into his room, feeling incredibly sluggish and flicked the lights on without looking up. Then he looked up and an ear piercing shriek left his mouth while he clutched his chest like a swooning heroine. 

"Holy god, what the fuck are you doing, Derek?" he asked in a very high pitched voice. "You scared the fucking shit out of me!"

There, in Stiles' room, Derek was leaning against the wall next to the window. He didn't even have the decency to look sorry even though Stiles was hyperventilating, and had probably crushed all of the chips in the bag to crumbles. This would definitely count as one of the scariest experiences in his life. Derek did look a bit less threatening than usual, though, not even dressed in his leather jacket. Instead he was wearing a grey shirt which looked unfairly soft. That still didn't make it okay for him to break into Stiles' room and lurk like a creepy stalker. 

"No, seriously, what the fuck are you doing?" Stiles asked again and gestured at Derek, the bag of chips crunching loudly in his hand. "Are you actually trying to kill me? Because I thought we'd established that you're not a murderer. So, are you an actual stalker instead? How did you even get in here?" 

"Through the window," Derek replied and now he actually looked a bit sheepish. "It was open. I wasn't sure if your father was at home or not."

"So you decide to creepily wait in my room and make me scream at the sight of you? If my dad had been at home he would come running and shoot you or something. Man, you have the worst plans."

Stiles had used to climb up and sneaked through Scott's window when one or both of them had been grounded, but that was a well established friendship and not at all like stalking. He really hadn't expected Derek to show up in his bedroom, ever. His bedroom that looked like a total mess with clothes strewn everywhere and the bed unmade. 

"Sorry." Derek frowned and pushed away from the wall to stand up straight. "I can leave."

"No, no, you don't have to leave, just... give me some kind of a warning next time, okay?" Stiles ran a hand over his buzz cut before he dumped the bag of chips on his desk to gather up the clothes scattered on his floor. There were even dirty underwear in the mix; he really hoped that Derek hadn't seen those while lurking in the dark. "So, uh, sit down. How long have you been here anyway?"

Derek sat down on Stiles' bed which definitely wasn't where Stiles had expected him to sit. "I came in right before you started walking up the stairs," he said.

Stiles dumped the clothes in the laundry basket and sat down on his desk chair, just staring. Derek looked really out of place in his bedroom. He was so big and adult and his presence was kind of overwhelming. It was not at all like having Scott over. Stiles licked his lips and grabbed a pen to have something to fiddle with. 

"Was there something in particular that you wanted?" he asked after a moment of awkward silence. 

"You said you wanted to see me soon," Derek said. "This is soon."

Stiles chuckled nervously and nodded. "That it is," he agreed. "Are you still staying with Isaac? I guess you don't have to now that Mr. Lahey is out of the hospital. How are things between them? I don't mean to snoop or put my nose where it doesn't belong, but Jackson said that Mr. Lahey isn't exactly the kindest father around."

"Things are better now," Derek said, looking kind of pained. "I... helped. I'm not staying there."

"Um, do you want something to eat? Drink? I could get you a beer or something but then dad would kill me because he'd think I was the one to drink it. Or I could just tell him that you were here, but I don't think that he'd like the thought of me having an older man in my bedroom. Not that I think that anything like that is going on here, like, not at all. That's not why I want to see you, just so you know. It's just, you kind of have this calming effect on me when I freak out? Kind of more like I'm allowed to freak out around you because you're not like my other friends or my dad, and it feels more okay to be broken around you. Maybe because of what you've been through, and oh my god I didn't mean to bring that up I'm so sorry."

"Stiles, breathe," Derek said. "Come here."

"I... what?" Stiles stared at Derek with wide eyes. 

"We could maybe watch a movie," Derek said hesitantly. "On your laptop. And you can sit here next to me. It might help."

"Oh, like, because of the closeness thing?" Stiles licked his lips and grabbed the bag of chips, throwing it to Derek who caught it easily. "Yeah, okay, we can do that. Do you mind? I mean, you're not my therapist or something, and what you've gone through is totally worse than I can ever imagine. I don't mean to be such a mess, you know, and if this is too much for you it's okay. You don't have to do this for me."

"Stiles, bed, now."

Stiles almost dissolved into hysterical giggles because Derek Hale was on his bed, leaning against the headboard and patted the empty space next to him. How was this even his life now? His heart was still racing with panic and some other emotion he couldn't even name. He grabbed his Mac and went over to the bed, hesitantly sitting down. Derek was kind of bulky so they ended up being squashed together, side against side, and Stiles propped up his laptop on his legs. 

"Why are you here?" Stiles asked as he stared at the screen. "I mean really, we don't know each other. There's no need for you to do this."

Derek was silent so Stiles opened up the folder where he kept some movies he'd downloaded and never gotten around to watching. There were mostly comedies and action movies but Stiles had no idea what kind of movies Derek liked to watch. He glanced over at Derek who still looked completely out of place and somewhat uncomfortable. 

"So, which movie do you want to watch?" Stiles asked. "No, wait, let me guess. No preference, right?"

"Right," Derek said, a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

Stiles chose the movie which seemed like it would have the most explosions and mindless action scenes in it. He wasn't really up for watching anything that required using his brain. The whole point of Derek's offer had been for this to be some sort of mindless comfort, wasn't it? He couldn't say no to something like that. At least not if he didn't start questioning things, which he still did of course because he couldn't get his brain to shut up. 

"Are we friends now?" Stiles asked as he'd started the movie and opened the bag of chips to give his rumbling stomach some sustenance. "Because I've got to tell you, man, this is pretty weird. Even weirder than Jackson being my friend. At least he's also a teenager and even though he's popular and has ridiculous cheekbones, he's not some kind of mysterious forest god like you."

"Forest god?" Derek repeated and Stiles felt like smacking himself because he'd actually said something like that. 

"Yeah, you lurk around in forests with your ridiculous strong arms and whole mysterious and attractive thing going on. I'm saying this completely objectively, mind you. I'm not at all attracted to you."

"Okay."

Stiles shoved chips into his mouth to stop himself from saying more embarrassing things. He had noticed that Derek was ridiculously attractive, but it was impossible not to notice. Even Jackson had noticed and Jackson didn't notice the attractiveness of guys that weren't himself. Stiles realized that Derek hadn't answered his question.

"Are we friends?" he asked again.

Derek looked at Stiles for a moment and then nodded. That was enough answer for Stiles so he tried to focus on the movie and at eating the chips without getting crumbles all over himself, the laptop and the bed. He offered the bag to Derek who shook his head. Maybe you couldn't eat chips if you wanted a ridiculous body like his. The grey shirt kind of hugged him in all the right places and showed off that he probably had rock hard abs. Stiles was a bit jealous. 

The movie actually managed to grab Stiles' attention after a while. He was rooting for the protagonist and the villain, because why limit yourself? It made their fights kind of confusing because he wanted both of them to win. Things were a bit more fun that way, though, and he grinned at some of the more spectacular special effects. The warm shape at his side now felt more familiar than strange. 

"Hey Scott, did you..." Stiles' words caught in his throat when he realized that he'd forgotten again. A choked sob escaped him before he managed to stop it and he bit down on his fist before more could follow. 

Derek paused the movie and took the Mac from Stiles' lap, carefully placing it on the floor. Then his warmth was back against Stiles who was trying really hard not to break down crying. Derek placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder and finally it was too much. The sobs wracked Stiles' entire body and he tried to get up from the bed, tried to run away, but Derek wouldn't let him. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders and Stiles leaned helplessly against Derek, getting tears and snot all over his shoulder. 

"I'm sorry," Stiles managed to get out in between sobs. "I know... it must be hard for you too. I don't mean to be such a baby."

"It's okay to cry, Stiles," Derek said, sounding a bit strained.

"Do you ever cry?"

"No."

Stiles curled his fingers into Derek's shirt, that really was unfairly soft, and tried breathing slowly even as the sobs continued. He didn't want to have a panic attack. Derek must have an even tougher time than him, and he felt really guilty about being such a mess around him. There was just something about Derek that tore his walls down and made him feel so defenseless. Like he just had to cry or the guilt would eat him up until one day his dad would come home and he'd be gone without a trace. Maybe there was something in Derek's eyes that reminded him of himself. 

After god knows how long, Stiles finally stopped crying and pulled back, frowning at the large wet spot on Derek's shirt. "I am so sorry," he said, sniffling and rubbed his eyes that were itchy and bloodshot. "I'll buy you a new one. It really is such a nice shirt and I ruined it with my tears and snot. You must find me so gross and pathetic."

"I'll just wash it," Derek said calmly. "You don't have to buy me a new one."

Stiles didn't miss that Derek didn't refute that he found Stiles gross and pathetic. Though honestly Derek often chose just one thing of what Stiles said to focus on. Perhaps that was what he was doing this time as well. He didn't seem angry and he wasn't trying to get away from Stiles in a hurry, even though he could if he wanted to. Instead his eyes were sad and filled with guilt in a way that Stiles could really identify with. They just hid it in different ways.

"You can borrow one of my shirts if you want to," Stiles said. "So you won't have to have a wet patch on your shoulder for how many hours it might take to dry. Unless, um, you probably want to go home now. Or did you want to finish watching the movie? We can totally finish watching the movie now."

"Will you tell me about him?" Derek asked and Stiles was confused for a second before he realized what Derek meant. 

"Not now. Not yet. I don't think I can." Stiles bit his lip and wrung his hands until Derek placed his own hand on top of Stiles'. "I still don't understand why you're doing this."

"Me neither," Derek said and then bent down to retrieve Stiles' laptop from the floor. He placed it in his own lap and pressed play. 

"The good side almost always wins in movies," Stiles said. "Do you think that the good guys ever win in real life?"

"I don't think there is a good side."

The bitterness in Derek's voice was harsh and it shouldn't have been comforting to Stiles, but in a weird way it was. He wasn't the only one who was broken, with no real belief in the good side of things anymore. Maybe Stiles wasn't that far gone, not really, but right at that moment it was really difficult to believe that his life could ever turn out alright. 

It was easier to breathe around Derek because they were both barely holding themselves together. Stiles hid it behind a mask of sarcasm while Derek hid his pain beneath anger. Perhaps it was all in Stiles' head but he didn't think so. Why else would Derek be there with him?

They finished watching the movie and Stiles ate all of the chips on his own. Once the movie was over, Derek walked over to the window and opened it. Stiles didn't even question it - at least not out loud - even though the sheriff wasn't at home yet and Derek could've used the front door. It felt almost right, like what they shared was too secret for doors. That was kind of silly, though; Stiles was silly and he was making it all sound like something special inside of his head. For Derek it was probably just cathartic to see someone else cry because he couldn't. 

"Thanks for keeping me company. It was..." Stiles paused, it hadn't exactly been nice but it hadn't been bad either. "Thank you."

Derek nodded at him and slipped out through the window. He left without a word but Stiles had a feeling that he'd be back. Otherwise Stiles would inevitably end up in the woods again.

***

The next few days were completely normal. At least what normal now was in Stiles' life. The kind of normal that was still odd to him but that he was starting to settle into. He realized that Jackson and Lydia weren't all about posturing or being mean - though they still were most of the time because they did have reputations to uphold. Allison could have an unexpectedly sharp tongue but she was also sweet and fun. Danny still rolled his eyes at Stiles' jokes but he smiled more, and entertained them with stories from the clubs he frequented. It was comfortable and perhaps easier than it had a right to be. 

So of course uncomfortable things were bound to happen. They were in the cafeteria during lunch break when someone walked in and made everyone's heads turn simultaneously. Her blonde curls were perfect, her heavily lined eyes sultry and her red mouth was practically sinful. Stiles' jaw dropped as he stared at her.

"What the holy hell is _that_?" Lydia asked disdainfully, but Stiles thought that she was probably just jealous of someone else getting more looks from people than she did.

Stiles' mouth shut as he figured out why the smoking hot girl was so familiar. "I think that's Erica Reyes," he said. 

"Wow, what happened to her?" Jackson asked, still staring and was elbowed by Lydia. 

Erica had always been a kind of mousy, quiet girl who didn't bother with makeup or dressing up. Stiles had never paid attention to her because of his bromance with Scott, and his crush on Lydia that had lasted since third grade. There had never been room for more people in his life, something that he felt pretty bad about now. Erica sauntered up to the table where Isaac was sitting alone and sat down. Everyone stared as she smiled at him and he smiled back. 

"Okay, what has happened to them?" Lydia asked. "I know for sure that Isaac never wore leather jackets before, and Erica definitely didn't dress like some kind of tacky reject version of me."

"I don't know, I think that it's really working for her," Stiles said.

He quickly looked away when Erica looked up and made eye contact with him, smirking as if she'd heard what he said. That was impossible since she was on the other side of the cafeteria, and conversation had picked up again now that people had stopped staring to instead talk about the new development that was Erica Reyes. 

"If you're into that kind of thing, I guess," Lydia said, inspecting her nails.

"Don't worry, Lydia, you're still the most beautiful girl in school," Jackson said offhandedly and Lydia gave him one of her rare unguarded smiles. 

It was in moments like these when Jackson wasn't acting as if he was auditioning to be douche of the year, and Lydia showed the sweeter side of herself, that Stiles understood why they were together. In a lot of ways they were actually the perfect fit. It made him feel dejected and then he felt horrible because he wasn't happy for the pair of them. Stiles had wanted that kind of relationship with Lydia, where she would smile at him and appreciate how much he loved her. He realized that it had been selfish of him to almost expect that, as if his love for her made her obligated to love him back. Perhaps it was a good thing that she'd never even looked his way. 

"Doesn't it make you a bit envious?" Allison asked Stiles quietly.

"Huh? What?" Stiles looked at Allison with a confused expression.

"The way they look at each other when they forget that someone else is there with them. I've never actually been in love, can you believe that?"

"We're young and single and incredibly attractive," Stiles said, grinning widely. "What do we have to be jealous of?" 

Allison laughed, "You're right."

The ever-present dull ache in Stiles' chest didn't disappear. It wasn't so much that he wanted to be in a relationship. He just wanted someone who would completely understand him without needing explanations. Something like that was difficult to find, he knew, but he'd been the closest to it that he would be in his life and he had lost it. For a second Derek's face appeared in his mind but he shook it off. 

No one would be able to understand him the way Scott had. Would Scott understand him now? He'd already changed so much. 

***

Saturday morning Stiles went to the grocery store together with his dad. They were in desperate need of things that didn't come from cans or the freezer. Vegetables and fruits were kind of important, or so he'd heard. Actually they lacked in the canned foods department too, which was why an extra pair of hands to carry all of the bags would be a good thing. 

Stiles was in charge of the shopping cart while the sheriff had a shopping list in his hand and grabbed stuff from the shelves. Sometimes either of them would try to sneak something unhealthy into the cart. Sheriff Stilinski didn't succeed because Stiles was watching the cart like a hawk. Stiles succeeded but he was sixteen and didn't have heart problems so he had the right to unhealthy snacks. 

He leaned his forearms on the cart as he pushed it along, browsing the shelves and didn't look in front of him as the store tended to be pretty empty on Saturday mornings. His daydreaming got a sudden stop as the cart's movement was stopped by something or someone. He realized that he'd bumped into someone and began apologizing profusely, before his mind registered who it was and his words came to a halt. 

Derek was standing there with a shopping basket in his hand, skin almost sickly pale under the fluorescent lights. He frowned at Stiles as if it was _Stiles_ who was completely out of place in this scenario. Stiles wasn't even sure why he was so shocked, Derek could cook and of course he had to buy groceries sometime. It was just so domestic and normal that it didn't commute in Stiles' mind. Especially since Derek was wearing his leather jacket, and looked more like he belonged in the middle of a gang fight than in a grocery store. 

"Stiles, I wish you'd stick by my side so I wouldn't have to search through half the store while carrying all of this," the sheriff's voice broke through Stiles' staring match with Derek. "What are you doing? Oh." Sheriff Stilinski was carrying an assortment of cans and boxes - they'd already picked out fresh fruit and vegetables - but he still managed to look imposing. "Derek Hale."

"Sheriff," Derek said, almost looking a bit lost. 

The sheriff dumped what he'd been carrying into the shopping cart, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What are your intentions with my son?" he asked and Stiles spluttered. 

"Oh my god, dad! This is so awkward. You make it sound like I'm dating Derek, which by the way isn't at all what's happening here."

"Silence, Stiles." 

"Okay," Stiles said and shut his mouth, fidgeting.

"My intentions with Stiles?" Derek said slowly, glancing at Stiles before quickly looking at Sheriff Stilinski again.

"That is what I asked."

"He's my... friend? We're friends."

"Don't you have any friends your own age?"

"I haven't... I just came back to Beacon Hills," Derek said, shoving his free hand into his pocket, the other hand clutching the handle of the basket so tightly his knuckles were turning white. 

"Yet you've managed to befriend my teenage son," Sheriff Stilinski said in a steely tone of voice. 

"Dad," Stiles wanted to protest but the sheriff shook his head and Stiles fell silent again.

"Stiles has helped me," Derek said, ducking his head. "We've helped each other. Laura's death," he paused, "it's been hard."

Sheriff Stilinski uncrossed his arms and his face adopted a not quite but almost apologetic expression. Stiles breathed a sigh of relief but he had an urge to hug Derek, who kind of looked like an overgrown, kicked puppy. He figured that neither Derek nor the sheriff would be happy with him hugging Derek, though. 

"Look, kid, you've been proved innocent and I shouldn't have treated you like you're guilty," Sheriff Stilinski said and Derek looked a bit surprised. "You can't blame me for being protective of my son, though, can you?"

"No, sir," Derek said and Stiles almost broke out in hysterical giggles because the situation was so unreal. 

"Why don't you join us for dinner tonight?" 

Stiles practically choked on air and Derek looked like a scared rabbit that was cornered by a wolf. Well, not quite but he definitely looked startled. He looked around as if searching for any kind of exit or excuse. 

"I was going to..." Derek began but the sheriff looked at him sternly and he started nodding instead. "That will be great. Thank you, sir." His voice was stilted and he couldn't quite manage a smile. 

"We'll be expecting you at six sharp," Sheriff Stilinski said, clapping Derek on the shoulder as he walked past to continue shopping.

"Yes, sir," Derek said faintly and then looked at Stiles helplessly.

"I'm so sorry about this, man," Stiles said when his dad was out of earshot. "Though at least he didn't feel the need to remind you that he's the sheriff and that he's got a gun. I mean, you definitely already know that, but I've got a feeling that that's something he'll threaten any of my future potential dating partners with."

"Female ones?" Derek asked. 

"Yeah, dude, girls are terrifying," Stiles said seriously and Derek nodded. "So, I better catch up with dad before he comes back and actually threatens you. I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah."

Stiles gave Derek a weak smile before they went their separate ways and Stiles found his dad. He had to pry a package of french fries out of the sheriff's hands. 

"Why did you ask Derek to come over for dinner?"

"If he's going to keep being your friend, I want to know what sort of person he really is," Sheriff Stilinski said, and when he turned around to pick something more healthy, Stiles snuck curly fries into the cart. "And it must be lonely for him. He's got no real family left."

Stiles swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he said quietly.

He thought about the way Derek had said that he'd helped him, that they'd helped each other. Stiles didn't think that he'd been much of a help at all, the weeping panicked mess that he was. It made him wonder if Derek had twisted the truth for Stiles' benefit. Maybe Derek recognized his need for other people to believe that he was okay when he really wasn't. 

Or there might be truth to his theory that it was cathartic, in a messed up sort of way, to see someone else's grief. Not someone grieving the person that had been close to them, but someone else they hadn't known. Stiles wondered if he would ever be allowed to see Derek's grief as clearly as Derek had seen his. 

***

By the time it was almost six o'clock in the evening, Stiles was practically vibrating out of his skin. The whole day since they'd gotten home from the grocery store he'd been a jittery, nervous mess. He had a pile of homework that he should have been doing, but all he could think about was the fact that Derek was coming over for dinner at his house, and this time his dad would be there. Last time Stiles had dinner together with Derek it had been a totally out of the blue thing, but this time it was planned and it made Stiles into a bundle of nerves. 

It wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been Sheriff Stilinski's idea. Derek was pretty much incapable of holding full conversations which meant that Stiles would, as always, feel the need to fill any awkward silences with incessant and even more awkward babbling. He knew that he would put his foot into his mouth at least once, and he'd probably manage to do it in the worst possible way. It was some kind of horrible miracle how he could be so insensitive about what happened to Derek's family, when his own best friend died just a few weeks ago. That was another thing he really didn't want to think about right now. 

"Stiles, stop fidgeting or you're going to cut yourself," Sheriff Stilinski said and Stiles blinked.

Without even realizing it, he had started cutting vegetables for a salad. The rest of the food was already cooked and waiting on the table. He had no idea how he'd managed that without even a single conscious thought about cooking. The sheriff must have helped but Stiles couldn't even remember that. Derek really was a huge distraction. The doorbell rang and Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin, nicking a finger on the knife. 

"Shit!" he cursed loudly and placed his finger in his mouth.

"I warned you," the sheriff said with a frown but probably realized that the cut wasn't serious, because he was already moving towards the front door. 

"No, I'll get it, you finish the salad," Stiles said quickly, and his dad gave him a look but nodded and went to take his place at the cutting board. 

Stiles cursed softly under his breath and placed his still bleeding finger into his mouth, before he stumbled to the front door, opening it. Derek had opted not to wear his leather jacket, instead going for a long-sleeved blue shirt, a black canvas jacket and a pair of jeans that weren't as tight fitting as the ones he usually wore. Not that Stiles had been paying attention. Derek's attention zeroed in on Stiles' finger which was still in his mouth. He quickly let his hand drop, cheeks reddening just a little bit. 

"Uh, hey, come in," Stiles said and backed away to give Derek some space to walk inside of the house. 

Derek followed and when the door was firmly shut behind him, he took Stiles' hand and cradled it in both of his, inspecting Stiles' finger. "What happened?" he asked, completely foregoing any kind of greeting. 

"I cut myself while cutting salad," Stiles said, not even surprised by Derek's lack of greeting but more surprised by how Derek was holding his hand. "I had a temporary lapse of sanity, thinking that I was Salad Fingers and my finger would taste mighty good in a salad," he added jokingly and Derek looked at him blankly. "Not funny? I didn't think so either."

"You should wash it and put a Band-Aid on it." 

"It's just a tiny cut," Stiles protested but Derek stared at him until he caved in. "Okay, fine, I'll wash it."

Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat and Derek quickly let go of Stiles' hand, looking like a kid caught with his hand down the cookie jar. Except that analogy was completely wrong for the situation, and Stiles decided to go to the bathroom to clean his cut before his brain decided to make the situation even worse. When he came back from the bathroom, his dad and Derek were already seated at the table. Derek looked very uncomfortable, while the sheriff was looking at him with a scarily intent expression from where he sat at the head of the table. 

"Stiles," Derek said with so much relief that Stiles almost laughed as he sat down opposite of him.

There was silence as all three of them filled up their plates and then for a moment more as they began to eat. Stiles was almost starting to wish that the entire dinner would be silent, so of course his wish was broken right away. 

"Derek, are you planning on staying in Beacon Hills?" Sheriff Stilinski asked and Derek visibly tensed up even though he'd been tense to begin with.

"Yes, sir," he replied, not quite looking at the sheriff. "I have something to stay for here. It is my birthplace."

"Will you get a job?"

"Eventually, I guess. I have some savings for now."

Seeing as Derek could afford a Camaro, Stiles wondered how much savings he had. Perhaps he'd inherited a lot of money. Stiles was very glad he'd managed not to say that out loud. Derek would probably prefer still having his family over being rich.

"If you've got something particular in mind when the time comes, I can put in a good word for you," Sheriff Stilinski said and Derek looked as shocked as Stiles felt. "People here know me and they'll trust my word."

"Thank you, sir," Derek said, sounding almost touched. "That's very kind of you."

"My son likes you and, despite his sometimes poor judgment, I'd say that makes you alright in my book."

Stiles groaned and hid his face in his hands. "Stop making it sound like I'm dating him, dad."

"So you don't want me to use the 'I have a gun' speech and remind him that you're underage?" Sheriff Stilinski asked and sounded far too amused; he was an evil father. "I just said that you like him, son, not that you want to marry him. Interesting what your mind jumps to."

If Stiles hadn't been embarrassed before, he definitely was now. He let his hands drop from his face and glanced at Derek who was eating with an impassive expression on his face, as if the conversation didn't involve him in any way. Stiles supposed that it was better than Derek looking uncomfortable or disgusted, but he still wanted some moral support or at least not be the only mortified person in the room.

"I'm a teenager, that's what liking means to my brain, okay?" Stiles said defensively and picked up his fork to stuff more food into his mouth, entertaining a brief thought that he might choke to death and be free of the embarrassment. 

Then he caught up with his own thoughts and it actually became harder to breathe. His mind had an astounding ability to be insensitive about even his own issues. He looked up and met Derek's eyes across the table and there was definite concern in them, as if Derek could read his mind or somehow knew. 

"I really don't want to know what goes on in your brain, Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski said.

Stiles realized what had felt like an eternity to him, had in fact only been as long as it took for his dad to chew and swallow his food. 

"I don't really want to know either," Stiles joked, voice a little bit too cheerful but the sheriff didn't seem to notice. 

Derek's foot nudged Stiles' under the table and Stiles didn't think that it was an accident, so he gave Derek a weak smile. Dinner was still awkward but it was more because of the failure that was Stiles' brain and the way Derek was tense, as if he was ready to escape at any minute. 

Stiles was pretty sure that Derek had gotten Sheriff Stilinski's stamp of approval without even that much of an inquisition. It was almost suspicious but the sheriff trusted Stiles - something that made Stiles feel extra guilty when he did something he wasn't supposed to. 

Derek definitely looked like he thought that it was some kind of trap. He was obviously not used to Saturday dinner with family, and the reason why he wasn't was too depressing to think about. Stiles wondered if Derek and Laura had ever sat down at an actual dinner table to eat a meal together after the fire, or if it had been too painful. Derek could cook so that made the first option more likely, but maybe they'd eaten their meals in front of the TV, avoiding the family dinner feeling.

"You're six years older than Stiles, aren't you, Derek?" Sheriff Stilinski broke the silence and Stiles realized that the questioning actually wasn't over yet.

"Yes, sir." Derek drew himself up in his seat as if preparing for an attack.

"I trust you won't buy him alcohol or bring him into clubs."

"I don't drink alcohol and clubs aren't my thing," Derek said and quickly added, "Not that I would do those things for Stiles even if I did drink."

"Good, good." The corners of the sheriff's mouth were twitching, and Stiles knew that he was amused even though he tried to look stern. "Don't let Stiles drag you into trouble; my boy is good at finding it."

"Dad, stop," Stiles said, almost whining. "I'm not going to drag him into trouble. I'll probably just make him watch lots of nerdy movies together with me until he decides that he can't take it anymore." He grinned at Derek who looked back at him with his eyebrow quirked. 

"I could imagine worse things," Derek said quietly and Stiles knew that meant that they'd be watching more movies together in the future. 

The thought made a weird kind of warmth settle in his stomach at the same time as he was kind of dreading it. Their first movie night together had been painful. Stiles didn't want to break down and cry again, he wanted everything to be okay. He also didn't know if Derek was expecting him to talk about his feelings or anything, which was strange because Derek really hadn't seemed like the kind of guy who cared enough to listen. It almost had to be that cathartic thing that Stiles had thought about before, or else he could see no reason for Derek to want to hang out with him. 

"How are your friends, Stiles?" Sheriff Stilinski asked and Stiles jumped in his seat, not expecting a question aimed at him.

"Um, they're fine," he said. "I think I might go to Allison's house to study with her and Lydia next week. Apparently I count as one of the girls in the gang; I don't know how that happened." He glanced at Derek who was suddenly looking pretty murderous, something that he hadn't done during the entire dinner up until this point. Maybe it was because Stiles had mentioned Allison. "I don't know if I want to go, though."

"Why not?" 

"Because I'm not sure if hanging out with them alone isn't going to be weird." Stiles shrugged and poked around in the food left on his plate. "Not that I'm saying that guys can't hang out with girls without it being weird, but they're the kind of girls I don't really have anything in common with. It's not like they'll actually need my help studying either, because Lydia is a genius and Allison isn't so bad either. It's not like when I had to help..."

"Scott," the sheriff filled in for Stiles who nodded and looked down at his plate. 

"Maybe you should go anyway; it might be good for you."

"I don't know, maybe. I'll see how I feel about it next week. Right now I just feel like I'll want to come straight home after practice. I swear it's getting tougher and tougher because the other guys on the team are freakishly strong. Isaac's got these really aggressive tackles, but I've learned to avoid him."

"Isaac's been hurting people?" Derek asked with a deep frown.

"Well, you know, not badly," Stiles said. "Not like... Um, it's lacrosse, dude, it's kind of meant to be aggressive."

"Are you talking about Lahey's kid?" Sheriff Stilinski asked with a confused frown.

"Yeah, um, he's been having kind of a rough time lately, you know, with his dad and all. He used to be friends with Derek's cousin so Derek's been looking out for him, right?" Stiles glanced at Derek who nodded. 

"That's very nice of you, Derek," the sheriff said.

"It's nothing," Derek mumbled, ducking his head. "It's the least I can do. Isaac doesn't really have anyone else."

Sheriff Stilinski nodded and was silent for a moment before saying, "Anyone up for dessert?"

"You're not meant to have dessert, dad," Stiles said.

"Come on, we have a guest. We can afford to eat dessert for once."

"It's fine, I should probably get going," Derek said. "After I help you clean up."

"No need to help," Sheriff Stilinski said, patting Derek's shoulder. "You're our guest. Maybe when you've been over a few times we'll start making you wash dishes, but not this time. Just relax. I bet you want to talk to Stiles alone for a while." He got up and collected their plates to bring them to the kitchen.

"I should help you, dad," Stiles said, rising from his seat. 

"No, you can show Derek your room. Just leave the door open," the sheriff added teasingly and Stiles groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. 

"What have I done to deserve this?" he asked dramatically. "Come on, Derek, let's go."

Derek had stood up but he looked at Stiles with an uncertain expression. "I really should get going."

"Stay for a little while longer, please?" Stiles felt oddly vulnerable and he hated it.

Derek hesitated for a moment longer but then he nodded. Stiles led him up the stairs and to his room. He knew that Derek had already been to his room and probably knew the way, but perhaps it was different to have actually come through the front door instead of the window. At least Stiles had taken some time to clean up in his room in his attempts to distract himself, and procrastinate on doing his homework. Stiles did leave the door open and Derek sat down on the desk chair instead of on the bed. 

"Isaac really hasn't been hurting people that much," Stiles said as he sat down on the bed. "Not more than any other members of the team. It's just that he used to sit on the bench silently and just watched the others, you know? Now it's like he's this new, scary person that people avoid because he's frightening and not because he's a social outcast. Did something happen? Between him and his dad, I mean. I know you said you helped but I'm kind of worried."

"You don't have to worry," Derek said. "Isaac is just trying to find himself, I think. I'll talk to him."

"I noticed he's begun to hang out with Erica and she's gone through this kind of transformation too," Stiles said and noticed that Derek looked kind of startled. "Have you met her? She was all sweet and quiet before and now she looks at people as if she wants to eat them."

"I've met her." Derek's voice sounded strained. 

"Does she scare you too? Because she made eye contact with me and I thought that I was going to die."

Derek huffed in amusement but then quickly grew serious again. "She's a bit... intense."

"I wonder what happened to them to make them change so quickly. It's like we've all ended up in an alternate universe where everything is strange. I still can't quite believe that I'm in the popular group at school now, and now Isaac and Erica are behaving like they're suddenly rock stars or something. I wonder if there's something in the water."

"I think Isaac and Erica just got tired of being alone and unseen," Derek said and looked at Stiles in a way that made his insides feel all funny. "Sometimes people need change."

"I guess I can't argue with that." Stiles cleared his throat and fidgeted, licking his lips. "Thank you for coming here tonight by the way. You could have just said no, but it's important to my dad for some reason so, yeah, it's cool that you're here."

Derek just shrugged as if to say that it was no big deal. They sat in silence for a while and for once Stiles didn't feel like filling it with meaningless rambling. He was becoming more okay with silence, at least as long someone else was there with him. Maybe it would lead to at least a little bit fewer moments of serious foot in mouth syndrome. Derek looked more at ease, too, inspecting things on Stiles' desk and around his room. He didn't look like he wanted to run away and be somewhere else like he had before. 

It made Stiles wonder about the weird friendship that they'd fallen into. At first it seemed that Derek had only helped him because he had to, feeling forced to do the right thing and help the panicking kid in the woods. Something must have changed between then and now even though not much time had passed. Derek was still silent, though not as much as before, and scowled a lot. He didn't seem to be the kind of person who could really be pushed into doing something he didn't want to, though, at least not too far. Stiles couldn't figure it out and it bothered him.

"Stop thinking, Stiles," Derek said and Stiles broke out of his thoughts with a twitch of his head. 

"What? Why?" he asked. 

"Sometimes it's better not to over think things."

"Got a lot of experience with that, do you? I bet you sit in some dark corner and brood all day. When you're not being kind and helpful or grocery shop like normal people. To be honest I was almost disappointed to see you in a store, behaving like an actual person. It broke some of that mysterious bad boy vibe you've got going for you, with the car and the leather jackets and stuff. At first I could almost think you were some kind of superhero, but superheroes don't do their own shopping."

"Then what do they eat?" Derek asked, his eyebrows twitching as if he wasn't sure whether to raise them or frown.

"I don't know, man, they've got, like, people to do the shopping for them," Stiles said. "At least Bruce Wayne does. You definitely seem like the Bruce type because you've got that awesome car, and sometimes your voice is kind of dark and stuff."

"And my parents are dead," Derek said flatly.

Stiles winced. "Shit, I'm sorry, man. I really didn't mean it that way."

"It's okay; I was the one to bring it up. I think I'm more of the Wolverine type."

"Really? I guess I could see that. If we're talking about the movies, does that mean that I'm Rogue? Because I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Is there someone you'd rather be?" Derek asked. 

"Someone who doesn't kill people by just touching them?" Stiles asked with a sad smile. "Yeah, I think I'd like to be someone else."

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

The following silence was awkward and heavy. Derek rolled himself closer by using his legs to drag the chair, and placed a hand on Stiles' knee to still his jittering leg. Stiles looked up into Derek's eyes and the understanding there was almost too much. It was almost a bit like Derek could read his mind, and it wasn't the first time he'd felt like that. 

"So, you're a fan of comics?" Stiles asked to make it easier for himself to breathe. 

"Laura liked to watch the movies so I watched them with her," Derek said. "They're not so bad."

"X-Men is your favorite, then?"

"I feel like I can identify with the characters. The feeling of being outside of society, a freak."

Stiles nodded and placed his hand next to Derek's that was still resting on his knee, their fingers brushing against each other. They didn't look at each other but the silence became easier again, not as choking. It was almost peaceful, like what Stiles had felt in the forest before the hunters had arrived. Like he was somehow close to Scott, even though Derek was the one there with him. 

Maybe Derek felt closer to Laura, too, like somehow it was easier to let the ones they'd lost be closer to them if they weren't alone. It was easier to think about them because they didn't have to carry the feelings in the absence of people. They knew that the other would understand in a way that no one else could, and they weren't close enough to worry about burdening each other. Not like Stiles had to keep his sorrow and guilt close to his chest around his dad so that the sheriff wouldn't worry. Derek understood and he helped, but he didn't make Stiles feel like he had to be okay.

"I really should go," Derek said when they'd been sitting in silence for at least a couple of minutes. "I told Isaac I would check in on him."

"Yeah, of course," Stiles said, pulling his hand away from where it had been resting next to Derek's. "I'm sorry for asking you to stay. I shouldn't have made you feel like you had to."

Derek gave Stiles' knee a brief squeeze before he got up, and started walking towards the window before he caught himself. "I should probably use the front door," he said.

"Probably," Stiles said, laughing. "Otherwise my dad will really start suspecting you of something."

Stiles followed Derek downstairs and they found Sheriff Stilinski in the living room. He sat on the couch, watching some old movie that Stiles thought probably wasn't even good. The sheriff looked like he would fall asleep at any minute, but when he saw Stiles and Derek he got to his feet.

"Thank you for dinner, sir," Derek said and stretched out a hand to shake hands with the sheriff. 

"You should come over again sometime," Sheriff Stilinski said with a smile. "I'm sure Stiles would be glad for the company."

"Yes, sir."

They said their goodbyes and Stiles followed Derek to the door. He watched as Derek got into his Camaro, and gave a little wave that Derek responded to with a nod before he drove off. Leaning against the doorframe, Stiles took a few deep breaths of the slightly chilly evening air before he went back inside and closed the door. He joined his dad on the couch and slouched down in his seat, sighing. 

"So, Derek is nice," Sheriff Stilinski said, glancing at Stiles.

"I know," Stiles said, sounding almost surprised as it still was a bit hard to believe for some reason. "He's a good friend."

"I'm glad."

They watched the movie in silence until Stiles decided to retreat to his room. He looked at his desk chair that was still close to the bed, where Derek had left it. There was a weird feeling in his chest that he didn't want to analyze or even think about at all. So he didn't.


	5. Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this part: Kate Argent being a creep. Spoilers for the movies Van Helsing, Shrek and also Beauty and the Beast I guess. These warnings are ridiculous, I'm sorry.
> 
> In the end I only wrote 25k for Camp NaNoWriMo but it was enough for me to write the end of part 6, the entirety of part 7 and the beginning of part 8 so I guess I'm pretty pleased. I've just felt really stressed out lately so writing is kind of going slow, but there's no panic for my posting schedule yet so I don't know why I'm telling you this.
> 
> I also want to take this opportunity to thank you guys for all the kudos and the lovely comments. They really brighten my day! :D

A new school week started. Stiles was at his locker, staring into it with a zombielike expression on his face. Suddenly Allison was next to him, practically bouncing on the spot with a wide smile on her face. Stiles looked at her and sort of felt like he was staring straight into the sun. 

"Allison, have you been taking drugs?" he asked.

"No, why would you ask me that?" Allison asked, still with the wide smile in place. 

"Why else would you look like sunshine and rainbows on a Monday morning? It's just not natural. Not even I can reach that level of energy this early in the morning after a weekend." That was a lie but Stiles wasn't that energetic this particular Monday morning. 

"Oh. My aunt Kate, I think I've mentioned her, arrived to Beacon Hills last night. She says that she's going to stay with us for quite a long time. She's practically like my sister instead of my aunt, but I haven't seen her for a year so this is great."

"I'm very happy for you," Stiles said and finally grabbed what he needed from his locker, closing the door. "Now let me go back to my scheduled morning as a zombie, please. Your smile is too bright; it's giving me a headache."

Allison laughed and placed her arm around Stiles' waist, dragging him along. Stiles didn't understand what was up with people and dragging him. Did they not think that he could walk on his own? He was perfectly able of both walking and even walking in the right direction without any help. People were severely underestimating his walking skills. 

At least Derek tended to grab his shoulder or arm instead of wrapping an arm around his waist. He was pretty sure that would be embarrassing on a whole other level. It didn't really mean anything when Allison did it because they were just friends. Which was also the case with Stiles and Derek, but their friendship was different somehow and Derek didn't seem to be the type to touch people's waists. Stiles really should stop thinking about things this early in the morning. 

Stiles and Allison met up with Lydia and Jackson outside of the classroom. They all had the same class during Monday mornings, which was kind of insufferable because Jackson was even more of a douchebag when he was tired. Jackson met Stiles' expectations by looking very grumpy where he was slumped against the wall next to the door. Lydia looked perfect as always but Stiles didn't even stare at her all that much. 

"How can you look so cheerful while having an arm wrapped around Stilinski?" Jackson asked Allison. "No one wants to be so close to that."

"Hey, mine is a fine piece of ass!" Stiles protested too loudly and several students, plus a teacher, stared at him with disconcerted expressions. "Allison's happy because her aunt, who is probably some kind of goddess with shiny hair and dimples just like Allison, arrived in Beacon Hills last night."

"You like my hair and dimples?" Allison asked, scrunching up her nose at Stiles.

"Everyone likes them, Allison."

"Thank you!" Allison's smile widened, if such a thing was even possible. 

"Let's stop talking about Allison and her aunt's physical attributes, no matter how lovely they may be, and let's go sit down in the classroom," Lydia said. 

"Your physical attributes are lovely too, Lydia," Stiles said and Lydia tossed her hair behind her shoulders.

"I know," she said and strode into the classroom like the queen she was. 

"Hands off my girlfriend, Stilinski," Jackson said, leaning into Stiles' personal space to glare threateningly at him.

"Pssh, you have nothing to worry about." Stiles grinned at Jackson and followed Lydia into the classroom, Allison coming along by default since she still had her arm around Stiles. 

Stiles ended up sitting at the desk behind Lydia, Allison in the seat next to his. Jackson was next to Lydia, of course, and Stiles realized that it didn't even bother him a little bit. It made him feel guilty that a crush he'd had since third grade could go away so easily. Then again, he supposed that he'd been in love with the idea of Lydia instead of actually being in love with her. Lydia was amazing but she just wasn't what Stiles was looking for. She was a good friend underneath her cold and terrifying surface, but that's all it was. 

It didn't feel as empty as Stiles thought it would, not having a crush anymore. Perhaps it was because nothing could compare to the emptiness of losing his best friend. Why did his brain have to bring that up? He slouched down in his seat and rapped his pen against his notebook. Jackson turned around to glare at him but he didn't care and kept doing it. He had to do something or he might chew his own arm off. Thankfully the teacher entered the classroom and Stiles had to actually begin taking notes as class started. It would be enough distraction for the moment.

***

Two days later, Stiles walked up to Allison's locker first thing in the morning. She was usually the one to come to his locker, but he was earlier than usual so he thought that he should return the favor. Not that it was really a favor and Stiles should really stop over thinking things. 

"Hey, Stiles," Allison said as she arrived to her locker after Stiles did. "You're here early."

"Couldn't sleep, woke up really early this morning and I didn't have anything better to do than to go to school early," Stiles said, shrugging. "The fact that I voluntarily go to school early when I could spend a little bit more time at home scares me."

Allison laughed and opened her locker, immediately closing it again but not before Stiles had seen the balloons inside. 

"Hey, what are those balloons doing in your locker? Is it your birthday?"

"Not so loud," Allison shushed him and looked around in the hallway that was half empty and no one was paying attention to them. "Lydia must have found out somehow. I didn't want anyone to know."

"Why not?" Stiles frowned in confusion. "If I had known I would totally have gotten you something awesome. Or no, I'm really crap at coming up with presents so I would have probably given you something very weird that you would've hated."

Allison bit her lip and smiled at him. Her hand went up to her chest where she fiddled with the silver pendant that hung in a silver chain around her neck. Stiles couldn't remember seeing it before. He looked closer and saw that it had something that kind of looked like a wolf on it together with a star. 

"Is that a birthday present?" he asked. 

"Oh, yeah," Allison said, glancing at the pendant before looking at Stiles again. "Kate gave it to me; apparently it's a family heirloom. It's supposed to have something to do with our family history but I don't know what exactly. Kate was very cryptic about it, saying that I have to work for it to find out."

"That sounds kind of annoying, that would drive me nuts until I could find out all about it. I'm really glad that my dad hasn't given me something like that. Silver isn't really my color."

Allison laughed and looked around before carefully opening her locker again, quickly grabbing what she needed before slamming the door shut. That reminded Stiles that she hadn't told him the reason to why she didn't want anyone to know about her birthday. 

"So, this whole avoiding birthday celebration thing, what's that all about?" he asked.

"It's nothing; I just don't like making a big deal of it." Allison avoided looking at Stiles and began walking down the hallway, Stiles jogging to catch up with her and walk at her side. "If I tell you, promise you won't tell anyone else?"

"Who would I tell? Lydia obviously knows which means that Jackson knows which means that Danny knows by extension. That's all of my friends at school right there. Except Danny probably still doesn't like me. I must be off-putting to gay guys or something."

"You're not off-putting to gay guys, Stiles. Anyway, the reason why I don't want anyone at school to know about my birthday is that I'm seventeen."

Stiles frowned at her. "That's it? That's the secret?" he asked. "It's because you've been moving around a lot, isn't it?"

"Thank you, most people assume that it's because I'm stupid or that I had a baby or something."

"Then they're the ones who are stupid. It sucks that the parent-teacher conference is tonight, though. Your parents won't be able to throw you a big party or anything. Or even a tiny one. Will there be any kind of party? Will there be cake? Because if so, I want to be there."

"My parents will celebrate me once they get back," Allison said, laughing. "Kate will keep me company while they're at the conference. You're welcome to join us, though; I can ask the others if they want to come too. I was actually thinking that we should have our study session together today after school."

"Study session? Are you kidding me? We can't study on a day like this. We're going to go to your place, sing for you really badly and eat cake. There will be no kind of studying going on, except you studying your presents. Unless my dad gets bad news at the parent-teacher conference, because then I'll probably get grounded and I won't be able to party with you guys." 

Stiles wasn't too worried about it because although his attendance wasn't flawless, he'd always had a legitimate reason. His behavioral issues probably wasn't as bad as usual either as he'd been too depressed to be all over the place. So his grades could probably be a little bit better, but he thought that he had As in almost all classes. He didn't think that there would be any reason for his dad to be disappointed in him. That's why he hadn't decided to just say 'screw it' and stop doing his homework, even though he wasn't all that interested in his grades anymore. College seemed like some far of, pointless thing that he didn't really want to think about at all. 

"Okay, you've convinced me," Allison said, smiling at Stiles. "After school we'll go to my house and celebrate my birthday, completely without studying."

"It's going to be awesome and you're going to thank me." Stiles grinned, feeling himself slip into the role of happy teenager more and more easily every day. 

After school Stiles went home first. Both because Allison wanted time to prepare her aunt for the invasion of teenagers, and because he wanted to check in with his dad first. Sheriff Stilinski had just come home from work and was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich. 

"Hey, dad," Stiles said, popping his head into the kitchen. "I'm going over to Allison's in a bit, I hope that's okay."

"I thought you said that you weren't sure that you wanted to go," Sheriff Stilinski said, a bit surprised. 

"Yeah, well, that was when it was only going to be the girls and me. Turns out that today is Allison's birthday so Jackson, and possibly Danny, will be joining us too. There will be no studying and lots of cake."

"I hope that the studying you have been doing will be reflected in today's meeting with your teachers."

"Oh, yeah, I don't think you have anything to worry about in that department, dad," Stiles said with a fleeting smile. "I've been doing well. I might not have perfect grades but, you know, nothing that will disappoint you. Probably." 

"That sounds good," the sheriff said, smiling at Stiles. "I guess you'll want to get ready. I'll leave in just a few minutes. See you tonight. At a reasonable time, it is a school night after all."

"I know. It's not like I'll want to stay at Allison's house once her parents get home. I'll be home way before bedtime, I promise."

They said goodbye to each other, because Stiles would probably not make it downstairs before the sheriff left. He wanted to get changed into something a little bit nicer because he was about to celebrate Allison's birthday after all. For a second he pondered about getting her some sort of present, but he didn't know what he'd give her and it wasn't like he had a bunch of previously bought gifts lying around. 

Stiles changed into a t-shirt with a distinctive lack of mildly offensive print, and tugged on a blazer on top of it. His jeans were still okay and it wasn't like he was trying to dress up all that much, he just wanted to make a good impression on Allison's aunt. At least things might be slightly less awkward if he didn't walk around with a stripper print on his t-shirt. Maybe. 

Allison had told them to give her at least 45 minutes. The drive would take a little while, and if Stiles started doing something else he might get stuck doing that for several hours, forgetting about the time. She probably wouldn't be too mad at him if he showed up a little early. Despite her normally sweet disposition, she did have quite a temper on her which was scarier than Lydia's, mostly because it was more unexpected. Stiles didn't think that being a few minutes early would be one of the things to make Allison's eyes go steely and her jaw set, though. 

He got into his jeep and started his drive to Allison's place. Her house was located in one of the slightly fancier parts of town, if you could call it that, and Stiles took the way through the center of Beacon Hills. He almost swerved up on the sidewalk when he saw Derek standing together with Erica outside of a diner. Stiles hadn't seen or spoken to Derek since the slightly awkward Saturday dinner. 

Now Derek was standing up close and personal with Erica, and Stiles had no idea why that bothered him so much. It wasn't like Derek wasn't allowed to have friends, or girlfriends, but he'd thought that Erica was more Isaac's friend... or girlfriend. Stiles made an impulse decision to park his jeep in the diner's parking lot and jump out. Before he even realized what he was doing, he was approaching Derek and Erica. Derek had taken a couple of steps back from Erica and he looked up as Stiles approached. Their gazes locked and Stiles suddenly felt really awkward. 

"Hi," he said, hating how his voice turned out squeakier than normal. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You're not interrupting," Erica said and looked at Stiles with a grin that made him shudder - he wasn't even sure if it was in a good way or a bad way. "We're just waiting for Isaac."

"Oh, um, okay." Stiles almost took a step back because whatever expression was in Erica's eyes, it was slightly creepy. "I'm actually on my way to Allison's but I saw you guys and I... wanted to say hi? And now I've said hi, so I'll just go."

"Stiles." Derek placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder, stopping him from turning around like he'd planned to. "Aren't you going to let me say hi back before you go?"

Stiles looked at Derek with and let out a surprised laugh. "Right, I kind of forgot," he said. "You're usually so silent that sometimes I forget that you are actually capable of speech."

"I'm only silent because you talk too much," Derek said but without any sharp edge to his words. 

"Ha, yeah, you like it, though. Gives you time to practice your brooding caveman skills. Anyway, I should go or I'll be late to Allison's instead of early like I was planning to. Thankfully I'm not meeting her creepy parents, but her aunt Kate is there so I should make a good impression."

Derek's grip on Stiles' shoulder tightened until it was almost painful, and there was a new coldness in his eyes that seemed to stem from pure anger. Stiles almost whimpered and he tried to squirm away from Derek's grip. Derek seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly let go of Stiles. 

"I'm sorry," Derek said, sounding pained. "I didn't mean to do that. Go to Allison's, have fun."

Stiles looked at Derek with wide eyes but slowly began backing away, nodding. He glanced at Erica who was looking at Derek with something that looked like fear and worry in her eyes. Apparently Derek had managed to freak her out too, even though she was newly fierce and terrifying. Something about the entire situation felt really messed up, but Stiles didn't want to think too closely about it. Maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe Derek had thought of something just as Stiles had been talking. It was nothing. 

Afterwards, when he parked his jeep outside of Allison's house, he couldn't even remember the drive there. He could barely even remember his thoughts, just knew that they'd circled around Derek and his odd behavior. Perhaps it had just been a case of indigestion. That wouldn't explain the anger in Derek's eyes, but Stiles decided to roll with it. 

He forced himself to assume a cheerful expression, and he bounded up the front steps to ring the doorbell. Judging by the lack of parked cars, Allison's parents had already left and Stiles was the first of the guests to arrive. Allison opened the door after less than a minute, smiling at Stiles and telling him to come in. In the hallway stood behind her an older woman in her late twenties with blonde curly hair, which was at least as shiny as Allison's, and she let her gaze sweep over Stiles. He felt himself blush and avoided meeting her gaze which was piercing in an uncomfortable way. 

"Stiles, this is Kate," Allison said. "Kate, meet Stiles. It was Stiles' idea to have this celebration for me."

"Oh, aren't you adorable?" Kate cooed and Stiles had to repress a shiver. "It's very nice to meet you, Stiles."

"Likewise," Stiles said and took her outstretched hand to shake it, releasing it as quick as he possibly could without it being rude. "Am I early or are the others just late?" he asked Allison. 

"Let's just go with both?" Allison suggested and Stiles grinned at her. "We've ordered pizza so it should be here any minute now. I got a few different sorts so everyone should find something they're happy with."

"I'm totally paying for at least one of the pizzas and everyone else should too. It's your birthday so you shouldn't have to pay for anything. Except maybe the cake, but I'm guessing your parents paid for that."

"You just keep getting more and more adorable, don't you?" Kate asked and Stiles' smile became a bit more strained. "I bet the girls love you."

"Ha ha, yeah, they really love me," Stiles said awkwardly and was happy when the doorbell rang.

Seeing as he was still standing by the door, he moved out of the way so Allison could open it. Jackson, Lydia and Danny all piled in at practically the same time. Lydia elbowed Jackson out of the way so she could walk in first. Jackson glared at her and was shoved in by Danny who closed the door behind them. Kate's attention moved to Jackson and Danny, and Stiles didn't think that it was his imagination that she was checking them out. He side eyed her and moved further away, keeping the rest of the group between them. Not that Jackson and Danny weren't hot, objectively speaking, but Kate was in her late twenties and very creepy. 

They all said their greetings and congratulated Allison, because she'd very determinedly told them not to do so at school, and then Stiles forced them all to sing for her. Danny and Lydia agreed quite readily but Jackson grumbled about it for a couple of minutes before agreeing. Something that was much easier to get him to agree on was to pay for one of the pizzas that Allison had ordered. 

Soon they were seated in the living room. Stiles sat in between Allison and Danny on a couch, Lydia and Jackson took the loveseat and Kate was in an armchair. They grabbed pizza slices and ate them off of paper plates, making sure not to drop anything on the couches or the floor. Pizza stains were not easy to remove, Stiles would know.

Everyone was talking and laughing in between taking bites but Stiles was silent, shoving pizza into his mouth as if his life depended on it as an excuse not to have to speak. He was thinking about the reaction to Kate's name that Derek had had earlier. Derek had reacted negatively every time Stiles mentioned Allison or her parents. Stiles had thought that it had something to do with Mr. Argent, and his penchant for hunting on Hale property in the middle of the night. With crossbows and not just rifles. Never before had Derek's reaction been so visceral as when he'd mentioned Kate, though, and that made him think that it had more to do with her than with Mr. Argent or Allison.

Maybe that was why he found Kate so creepy: Derek's reaction to her name. None of the others seemed to have a problem with her, and Allison adored her as if she was her older sister. It made Stiles feel a bit guilty that he couldn't get rid of the feeling that there was something wrong about Kate. 

First he couldn't figure out how Derek would even have been able to meet Kate. Perhaps they'd met somewhere before Derek came back to Beacon Hills, but that seemed a bit too much of a coincidence. Then he remembered that Allison had said that Kate had used to live in Beacon Hills. It was possible that she'd lived there six years ago, and had somehow bumped into Derek. 

Stiles didn't know what could have happened to make Derek so angry at Kate, but he looked at her and saw the way she was looking at Jackson. It was probably just his imagination and it couldn't be true, but the thought was making him ill to his stomach. The age difference between her and Derek couldn't be that wide so it wasn't as gross, but she'd obviously done something to hurt him. 

Derek wasn't the friendliest person in the world and he looked like he wanted to glare holes into everyone's heads, but Stiles had never seen him look like _that_ before. Not when Stiles had gone back to the preserve after Derek told him not to, and not when he'd put his foot in his mouth more than once. There was definitely something more than just anger and annoyance there and Stiles wanted to know what. It wasn't like he could just ask Derek, though; that would be an incredibly bad idea. 

"Stiles, are you okay?" Danny asked quietly and startled Stiles out of his thoughts.

He realized that he'd been staring emptily at his paper plate, now with a distinct lack of pizza, for god knows how long. Thankfully Jackson was boasting about his lacrosse prowess, as Kate was apparently very interested in hearing about it, and that meant that no one had been paying attention to Stiles. No one except for Danny apparently.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine," Stiles said after staring blankly at Danny for a couple of seconds. "I was just thinking."

Danny raised an eyebrow as if to say 'obviously' or maybe 'I don't believe you'. Stiles wasn't sure which but he gave Danny a reassuring smile anyway and patted his knee.

"You should listen to Jackson's bragging again or he'll get pissed off," Stiles said with a cheeky grin and Danny smiled, getting dimples that were even more adorable than Allison's.

Life was seriously unfair. Stiles' friends were all ridiculously attractive, while he was an awkward spaz with a funny nose. Danny and Stiles had been smiling at each other for a while when Lydia asked:

"Are you guys flirting?"

Stiles turned to look at her with wide eyes. "No!" he said, quickly taking his hand off of Danny's knee. "We were just bonding over how Jackson can't stop being a self-centered douche for more than a second at a time. It's Allison's birthday, we should be talking about how fantastic she is."

"It kind of looked like flirting to me," Kate said with a smile that made Stiles want to vault over the couch and hide behind it.

"It's a well established fact that I'm not attractive to either gay guys, or girls or people of any gender or orientation," Stiles said, making empathic gestures with his hands. "So, are we getting any cake or what?"

"You've already wolfed down enough pizza for two people," Allison said. "How can you want cake right now?"

"I'm a growing boy." Stiles patted his stomach and Jackson snorted.

"Yeah, growing fat," he said, dodging the decorative pillow that Stiles threw at his face. 

"Cake will have to wait for a little while," Allison said. "I feel like I'm going to explode. The pizza was really good, though. Thank you, guys."

"You ordered them, we just paid," Lydia said magnanimously, but still managed to make it seem like it had all been thanks to her - it was an ability that Stiles greatly admired and had no chance in hell to be able to pull off. 

The conversation went back to things that Stiles didn't really have to say much about, and he slouched down in his seat. His thoughts strayed back to Derek, and he wondered what he was doing right now. Probably hanging out with Isaac and Erica. What were they doing? Stiles couldn't imagine Derek participating in small talk or laughing at jokes. The thought of Derek hanging out with Erica in any capacity was a weird one, because the new Erica seemed so aggressive and Derek was... aggressive in an entirely different way. 

Though now Stiles thought that Derek was just a bit lost and really depressed, and was practically incapable of expressing it in any other way than anger. Stiles could definitely understand that feeling, but he couldn't imagine what Derek must be going through. Stiles had only lost two people that were important to him. Granted, he'd only had four people that were important to him in the first place. It was different because he still had his dad, even though their relationship was a bit strained because Stiles had to hide the depth of the guilt and sadness he felt. 

The point was that Stiles had people he cared about, and who cared about him, and actual family. Derek had lost his entire family and all he had now were three teenagers who were, in their own right, probably at least a little bit messed up. Though Stiles did care about Derek. He didn't know quite when it had happened but it was true. The scowling menace had turned out to be an actually okay guy, just with a lot of issues, and he'd wormed himself into Stiles' heart. 

"You're doing it again, Stiles," Danny said, nudging Stiles' shoulder with his own. 

"Huh? Doing what?" Stiles asked, returning from his dazed state. 

"You're completely zoning out, Stilinski," Jackson said, looking at Stiles with his eyebrows raised. "You were the one who really wanted cake, but now you didn't even notice that Kate went to get it."

Stiles checked and it was true. The pizza boxes and used paper plates had been replaced with cake and new paper plates. Stiles really needed to stop thinking about Derek or he would miss everything that was going on.

"Sorry, uh, just thinking," Stiles said, scratching the back of his head. 

"Thinking about what?" Lydia asked, sounding as if she didn't really care but she fixed Stiles with a piercing look.

"Um, stuff?" Stiles shrugged. "A friend," he added when he realized that Lydia wouldn't settle for his first reply.

"Scott?" Allison asked hesitantly and Stiles shook his head. 

"No, it doesn't matter. Let's eat cake!" He clapped his hands together and Allison took pity on him, cutting into the cake to give everyone a piece.

There was a brief silence as they all enjoyed their first bites of cake, but then Danny asked everyone what they were doing for the weekend. The conversation flowed again, and this time Stiles did his best to focus on what they were talking about instead of letting his thoughts drift off. 

Once they'd finished eating as much of the cake as they could, it was getting quite late and Mr. and Mrs. Argent would soon come home from the parent-teacher conference. Stiles wanted to go home and talk to his dad, and actually attempt to do some homework before going to bed. He excused himself and the other three guests also decided to leave. 

Before Stiles walked out to his jeep, Allison pulled him into a hug. It took him by surprise so a moment passed by before he hugged back. He didn't really have any experience with hugging girls, except for his mom and Mrs. McCall when he'd been younger. It was nice but it wasn't really that much different from what hugging Scott had felt like, seeing as Allison was just a friend.

"Thank you, Stiles," Allison said and smiled brightly once Stiles had pulled away.

"Don't mention it." Stiles smiled and waved, going to his jeep.

He felt bad about not having been quite there in his thoughts, but he couldn't help it. It had at least been better than being roped into participating in small talk with Kate. Sooner or later he would find out what happened between her and Derek. If there was something Stiles was good at, it was finding out secrets.

***

Stiles spent the weekend pretending that he wasn't disappointed that he didn't see Derek. It wasn't like he could go to Isaac's house and ask if he'd seen Derek, though. It was one thing to ask him at school where they both had to go, and another to drive all the way to his house. He didn't have to spend time with Derek every week, and it wasn't even a regular thing as they'd just recently actually become friends for real. 

It was a bit easier to breathe around Derek, even though Stiles was panicked or crying half of the time. The point was that he didn't have to pretend to be fine. That would have been especially good during Sunday, which was the weekly punch to the gut reminder that Scott really was dead and that it was all Stiles' fault. Not that he ever forgot - more than the few minutes here and there that he actually did forget, and then proceeded to panic a bit - but the grief was more solidified on Sundays, as if he was wrapped in a too tight embrace.

That explained why he felt like a zombie during Monday mornings, and all through the day, even though he'd gulped down an ill-advised cup of coffee. It only made him jittery and even more unable to focus, and his brain still felt like it was filled with fog and his thoughts were more sluggish than usual. 

His friends knew enough to go easy on him, so during lunch break they mostly left him alone while his nose was practically buried in his lunch tray. The food wasn't really appetizing and the smell of it was actually making him slightly nauseated, but it felt like the best way to avoid conversation or looking at people. 

He started and flailed a bit when someone grabbed his shoulder and made him sit upright. Looking around with a confused expression, he came face to face with Erica. She still had her hand on his shoulder, leaning over him. 

"Um," he said intelligently. 

"Hi, Stiles," Erica said, smirking at him as he tried to keep his gaze away from her cleavage and focused on looking into her eyes instead. "I have something for you."

Erica slipped a piece of paper into Stiles' hand and he stared at it. There was a phone number scribbled across it. The handwriting looked masculine, but Stiles couldn't really tell for sure because he wasn't Sherlock Holmes or discriminated based on people's handwriting. He'd seen plenty of girls who had messy handwritings or guys with pretty handwriting. That still didn't explain why Erica would be giving him her phone number. 

"Um, okay, thanks?" Stiles said, feeling increasingly confused; his brain was definitely not up to the challenge of making sense of the situation. 

"It's Derek's phone number," Erica said, finally taking some pity on him and stood up straight. "He told Isaac to give it to you, but Isaac didn't want people to get the wrong idea." Clearly she had no qualms about doing that.

"So Derek's finally got a phone like normal people?" Stiles asked, grinning now that he finally wasn't confused anymore. "Maybe he's not actually a caveman like I feared."

Erica laughed. "You've got guts, Stiles. No wonder I used to have a crush on you."

"Wait, what?" Stiles stared at Erica in shock but she was already on her way back to the table where Isaac sat, looking a bit like he'd just swallowed a lemon. "What just happened?"

"That's what we'd like to ask you," Lydia said, looking perturbed. 

"I, um... She was just giving me my friend's new number," Stiles said and fumbled with his phone to quickly program Derek's number into it. "I think she was probably just kidding about the other part."

"Sure," Allison said, smiling knowingly. "Everyone keeps flirting with you and you think that it's just a joke."

"That's because it is." Stiles focused on writing a text to Derek.

_Thanks for your number. Erica gave it to me in a super creepy way with cleavage in my face and all. Awkward. This is Stiles btw._

"You suddenly seem a lot more awake, Stilinski," Jackson said. "Happy that a girl is finally paying attention to you even though she was told to do it?"

"What do you call these two?" Stiles asked, gesturing at Allison and Lydia. "I have all the attention I need, thank you very much. I would take friendship over meaningless flirting any day."

"Aw, that's so sweet," Allison said, leaning against Stiles. 

"Forever in the friend zone, man," Jackson said. 

"Whatever," Stiles said. "At least I'm not permanently stuck in the douchebag zone."

It definitely wasn't his best comeback but he couldn't muster up the energy to care. His phone buzzed, signaling a new text message. Seeing as practically everyone he knew was seated at the same table as him, it really could only be from one person. He was so eager to open the message that he almost dropped his phone in the leftovers of his lunch. 

_You find cleavages creepy?_

Stiles stared at the text for a moment before he burst out laughing. He didn't know why because it wasn't even that funny. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Derek who had written something like that, which was actually kind of surreal. Stiles was aware that his friends were staring at him with expressions that varied between curious and looking at him as if he was crazy. He opted to ignore them to send another text.

_Those things could smother me, totally a danger to my health._

A few minutes went by before the next text arrived.

_I'm sure that Erica doesn't want you that close to her cleavage. Movie night this weekend? Not sure if something will come up but I'll let you know in that case._

Derek was definitely a man of a lot more words when he was texting, which was pretty strange considering how typing took a lot more effort than saying things out loud. Maybe he was shy and expressed himself better in writing. However, Stiles couldn't imagine Derek being shy. He sent one last text before lunch break was over.

_Movie night sounds great. :) Let me know what time. I'm free all weekend._

Maybe it sounded a bit sad and desperate but they were friends, not dating, so it didn't matter. 

***

Stiles had a free period. He'd gone to the bathroom and then joined Lydia and Allison as they were supposed to study together. He plopped down on a chair at the table in the middle of a conversation between the two girls.

"The what of who?" Lydia asked.

"What the what of who?" Stiles looked at Lydia, who hadn't acknowledged his presence, and then at Allison who smiled at him.

"I'm working on the history project; you know the one that has to have something to do with our family history?" Allison said and Stiles nodded, he knew that assignment all too well, it was a pain in the ass. "Well, thanks to Kate I found this." She held up the book to show Stiles. "The beast of Gevaudan. Listen. 'A quadruped wolf-like monster, prowling the Auvergne and South Dordogne areas of France during the year 1764 to 1767. La Bete killed over one hundred people, becoming so infamous that the King Louis XV sent one of his best hunters to try and kill it.'"

"Boring," Lydia said, spearing another one of the raisins she was eating one by one with a fork, bless her evil little soul. 

Unlike Lydia, Stiles had an expression of intense concentration on his face. There was something about what Allison read to them that struck a chord in him, but he didn't know what or why. Or perhaps he knew exactly what and tried desperately not to think about it. A wolf-like monster killing people? 

"'Even the church eventually declared the monster a messenger of Satan'," Allison continued. 

"Hmm. Still boring." Lydia ate another raisin and Stiles was almost frustrated by how slowly she ate, when he would've just stuffed all of the raisins into his mouth straight away.

"'Cryptozoologists believe it may have been a subspecies of hoofed predator, possibly a mesonychid'," Allison said, unbothered by Lydia's comments. 

"Slipping into a coma bored."

"'While others believe it was a powerful sorcerer who could shape shift into a man-eating monster.'" 

"Any of this have anything to do with your family?"

"This. 'It is believed that La Bete was finally trapped and killed by a renowned hunter who claimed his wife and four children were the first to fall prey to the creature.' His name was Argent." Allison looked practically smug, but Stiles had a hard time breathing and thoughts, insane thoughts, were racing through his mind.

"Your ancestors killed a big wolf. So what?" Lydia asked, sounding very unimpressed. Not that that was unusual.

"Not just a big wolf. Take a look at this picture," Allison said, turning the book so that both Lydia and Stiles could see the illustration that took up an entire page. "What does it look like to you?"

"Werewolf," Stiles breathed out before he could stop himself and Allison nodded with a smile that said that she didn't actually believe the story. 

Lydia rolled her eyes and got up from her seat. "This was all truly fascinating, but I'm going to leave before you guys bore me to death." She walked away with swift steps that made her curls bounce in a way that Stiles would've found hypnotizing just a few weeks ago. 

"It's pretty cool, right?" Allison asked and Stiles gave her a distracted smile.

"Yeah, cool." He grabbed a book from his bag with an air of someone who wanted to study and not talk.

Allison respected it and went back to reading her book, still with a smile on her face. Stiles stared blankly at the random page that he'd flipped open to have an excuse not to talk as he processed his thoughts. The animal attacks, Mr. Argent with a crossbow in the woods, Derek's reappearance in Beacon Hills. All of it made some twisted kind of sense, but it was the sense of fantasy novels, not reality, and yet Stiles couldn't help but to entertain the thought. 

A werewolf had killed Laura and Scott, and it had attacked Mr. Lahey. Mr. Argent was some kind of werewolf hunter because apparently that was in his family history. And Derek? Derek was either someone who just knew about werewolves, or he was a werewolf with a soul. No, wait, that was something from _Buffy_. Stiles almost snorted when he could make some very obvious comparisons between Derek and Angel. A good werewolf then, someone that didn't kill people. 

There couldn't be just bad werewolves; that would be too much like a horror movie. Though accepting that werewolves existed, and that some of them were good, probably tipped it over into something Twilight-esque instead. 

Stiles snorted at himself; what was he even thinking? He was just trying to make things seem like they had a purpose, something more than just a random wild animal attacking people. That was all there was to it and he was driving himself insane. He didn't realize that he was digging his nails into his thighs until he looked up and met Allison's concerned gaze. 

"I'm sorry," Allison said and Stiles' eyebrows shot up.

He made a conscious effort to ease his grip on his thighs. "For what?"

"For reading the story to you. Kate pointed out the similarity with what's been going on in Beacon Hills, but I didn't think... I keep reminding you and I really don't mean to."

Stiles sucked in a breath. Kate was another factor. He could bet that she was also a hunter, and she'd been the one to lead Allison to find the book with a part of her family's history. If Kate was some kind of a werewolf hunter like her brother and Derek was a werewolf, there would be no wonder why their relationship ended very badly. Stiles shook his head, he was being ridiculous. 

"It's okay, Allison," he said. "You don't have to worry about me."

Allison didn't look convinced but she didn't press it, and Stiles focused on his breathing. Maybe he wasn't holding up quite as well as he thought, maybe his mind was cracking from the pressure. Werewolves? Such a thing could never exist, ever. Yet there was a part of Stiles' mind that kept gripping onto the thought, and he pushed it back to the part of his brain that contained everything he didn't want to think about. 

***

Derek was coming over to have the movie night on Friday. Sheriff Stilinski was working the nightshift which meant that they could occupy the living room, which was more comfortable than being squished together on Stiles' bed. Stiles had popped popcorn, with both butter and salt because his dad wasn't there to steal any, and there was a bowl of chips waiting on the coffee table. 

He was buzzing with energy and nerves, and when the doorbell rang he practically ran towards the door. The corners of Derek's mouth quirked upwards a little bit when Stiles practically threw the door open. It wasn't exactly keeping it cool, Stiles knew that, but he was too hyped up to care. There were so many suspicions and ridiculous theories building up in his mind that he couldn't calm down at all. The Coke he'd been drinking probably didn't help either. 

"Hey, Derek," he said breathlessly as Derek walked in and closed the door behind him. "How are you?"

"Fine," Derek said, his eyebrows doing the little dance that meant that he couldn't decide whether he wanted to raise his eyebrows or frown. "Are you okay?"

"Ha, yeah, just a bit more of a spaz than usual, you know?" Stiles wrung his hands. "Come in, sit down. I've already picked a movie that I want to watch if that's okay. You can pick the second one."

"Sure." Derek took off his leather jacket and hung it over the back of the armchair before sitting down on the couch.

Stiles didn't think that he'd ever get over how Derek made furniture seem so small. Derek wasn't even that much taller than Stiles, but he had broad shoulders and ridiculously muscled arms. It kind of made Stiles a bit jealous, but jealousy was something that he was used to.

"What do you want to drink?" Stiles asked.

"Water is fine," Derek said.

Stiles nodded and went into the kitchen to get a bottle of water and a tall glass. His own glass was already on the coffee table, filled with more Coke that he probably shouldn't drink. At least he wasn't chugging down Jack Daniels or something; that would probably lead to a lot worse things than him just being a total spaz. He placed the water bottle and the glass on the coffee table in front of Derek and sat down next to him, a bit closer than he'd intended as their legs brushed together. They'd been closer together than that before, though, so Stiles didn't bother with moving.

He grabbed the remotes to switch on the TV and the DVD-player. The movie was already inserted and the menu screen flickered to life. He glanced at Derek to gauge his reaction. Derek was expressionless but Stiles thought that he could see a muscle tick in his jaw. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

"Van Helsing?" Derek said after a moment.

"I know that it's old but I didn't feel like renting anything and I haven't seen this in years," Stiles said. "It is pretty corny but Kate Beckinsale is kind of hot. You said you like Wolverine, right? Hugh Jackman is in this one. He's actually hot, too, if you're into tall, dark and broody guys with a muscled physique..." he trailed out and gave Derek a onceover, realizing that he'd basically been describing him.

Derek was wearing a tight, v-necked t-shirt that showed off his biceps and abs almost as perfectly as if he'd been bare-chested. Stiles stared at him, licking his suddenly dry lips. What if Derek thought that Stiles had been trying to come onto him?

"Start the movie," Derek said and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

"Okay," Stiles squeaked and hurried to comply.

The movie began but Stiles couldn't stop sneaking glances at Derek, who looked kind of tense and wary. Stiles hoped that it wasn't because of what he'd said. He thought that he'd blurted out worse things in the past, but he supposed that a lot of guys would be uncomfortable if they thought another guy was coming onto them. It had never really been a problem in Beacon Hills, everyone loved Danny, but it might be different for Derek.

"What happened between you and Kate?" Stiles blurted out and Derek's head turned so quickly that Stiles almost thought that it was going to fall off. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask that. I've just had too much Coke to drink and my brain to mouth filter really isn't working. Just forget I said anything and let's watched the movie." He resolutely turned to watch the screen but he could feel Derek still watching him.

"Did you talk to her about me?" Derek asked after a long, uncomfortable pause. "Has she told you anything?"

"No, I just kind of figured it out after how you reacted when I mentioned her name. Allison told me that Kate used to live in Beacon Hills."

"She did." Derek's voice was steely and Stiles wanted to drop the subject but he couldn't. 

"Were you guys... involved?" he asked hesitantly. 

"Something like that."

"Oh, okay." Stiles let out some of the breath he'd been holding, and dared to look at Derek who was frowning at him as if he couldn't believe that Stiles was real. "Who do you think would win in a fight, vampires or werewolves?"

Derek blinked at the sudden change in topic and was silent for a moment before he said, "Werewolves."

"So, you're a werewolf guy, huh?" Stiles asked, voice almost cracking and he didn't miss the way Derek tensed up a little bit more before he nodded. "That's cool. I've always been a bit more into vampires, but then the whole Twilight thing happened and I got tired of them. If werewolves were real, do you think they'd only be able to transform during the full moon or at will?"

"Werewolves aren't real, Stiles," Derek said, aggressively shoving popcorn into his mouth as he stared at the TV.

"I know that, but hypothetically speaking, what do you think?"

"I think that you talk too much," Derek said dryly, but Stiles could tell that he wasn't saying it in a truly mean way.

"Sure you do, Derek," Stiles said cheerfully and reached for the bowl of chips.

"Watch the damn movie."

Stiles was actually able to pay attention to the movie for a while. His mind had calmed down a bit now that he'd had one of his suspicions confirmed, though he didn't know the actual circumstances yet, but this wasn't the right time for that. He wouldn't push Derek into talking about something that so obviously made him uncomfortable. 

Not that it was possible to actually push Derek into doing anything he really didn't want to do. Stiles was stubborn as hell but Derek was like a mountain, all stoic and brooding and immovable. Mountains probably didn't generally brood because they didn't have feelings, but that was hardly the point. Stiles wasn't even going to try to push Derek into talking about anything he didn't want to talk about, because he hadn't pushed Stiles. This slightly awkward friendship they had would probably end if Stiles tried to make Derek talk about things anyway. It was a friendship filled with one-sided conversations and sort of mutual mourning. 

Stiles realized that he'd gotten sidetracked again, and had been looking at Derek instead of the movie for what was probably an embarrassingly long time. Either Derek hadn't noticed or he'd simply not to call him out on it. Stiles guessed the latter because Derek was a pretty observant person. He quickly turned his attention back to the movie. 

It was lucky that he'd seen it before or he'd be completely lost. Or perhaps not considering what kind of movie _Van Helsing_ was. At least it had quite many hot people. Such a shame about Velkan - in a completely detached way of course. It was a shame for anyone into guys who had watched or would watch the movie. 

"If you were into guys, would you find me attractive?" Stiles asked and then immediately regretted it, because Derek wasn't a person he wanted to ask such questions. "Forget I ever asked that. You don't have to reply. In fact, you shouldn't reply."

"You're not so bad," Derek said and Stiles looked at him, mouth hanging open.

"Wait, what is that supposed to mean?" he asked after gaping at Derek for a while, trying to process the words.

Derek quirked an eyebrow at Stiles. "You're not so bad," he repeated.

"I think that's probably the nicest thing you have ever said to me. Actually, it might be the nicest thing you have ever said, ever. I'm really touched, dude." Stiles placed one hand on his own chest, over his heart, and the other on Derek's shoulder, faking moved tears. "Really, very touched."

Derek rolled his eyes but the corners of his mouth twitched and Stiles could tell that he was amused. Then Stiles' brain latched onto something that Derek had said, or rather didn't say, and had an internal freak-out. 

"Wait, are you into guys?" Stiles asked, not proud of how high pitched his voice became. 

Derek stayed silent, drinking some water as pretence not to have to say anything. At least Stiles thought that he was doing, but maybe he was just thirsty. It made Stiles think that Derek maybe thought that Stiles had a problem with it. He definitely didn't, but it might have seemed that way because he'd sounded sort of like a dying whale while asking the question. 

"I don't have a problem with that or anything," Stiles said quickly, rubbing his hands against his thighs in a nervous gesture, only to regret it when he realized that his hands were salty and greasy because of the chips he'd eaten. "Just last week people thought that I was flirting with Danny. Which is ridiculous because he's Danny and I'm Stiles and that would just be weird. Not that he's not attractive because he is but I'm just me and we're friends now, and it would be kind of like dating an incredibly attractive cousin. So it's okay if you're into guys, too. I mean, like, guys and girls, not 'too' as in me being into guys."

"Stiles, I get that you don't have a problem with it," Derek said with a heavy sigh. "I think that you have a problem with your own attraction to guys, though."

"I'm having a problem with my what?" Stiles did an impressive imitation of a goldfish, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he looked at Derek. "I think I misheard that."

"It's obvious; I don't know why you think it's not."

Stiles snapped his mouth shut and frowned as he thought about it. Maybe he was a bit too adamant in his thoughts about not being attracted to guys in more than a platonic way. He didn't know why, because he definitely didn't have a problem with others being gay or bi. Perhaps it was just one of those Stiles Stilinski things that didn't make sense even to himself. 

It was quite possible that Derek was right and he really was into guys, which inevitably meant more people for him to be rejected by. Was it possible that he hadn't wanted to come out to himself as bisexual if there was no chance that guys would find him attractive anyway? Maybe that was why he'd kept asking people about it.

"Huh, didn't see that one coming," Stiles said, blinking as the realization truly sunk in. 

"Really? I'm pretty sure everyone else did," Derek said dryly.

Stiles glared at him - it had no effect, of course, since no one could glare like Derek could - and punched Derek lightly in the arm, getting a slight pain in his knuckles as a reward. Derek's biceps really were rock solid and suddenly Stiles thought that he wasn't as much jealous of them as he wanted to lick them. Shit, that was something that he really didn't need to think about. 

"Are you okay?" Derek asked as Stiles had kind of zoned out for a minute. 

"Uh, yeah, I'm okay," Stiles said slowly, tearing his gaze away from Derek's body. "Now that I think about it, it actually is quite obvious. I only mentioned that Kate Beckinsale is hot and then went onto describe _why_ Hugh Jackman is hot, in detail, so I guess that says something about me. I'm really into guys. I can live with that, I have for quite some time without even realizing apparently. Thanks for helping me realize that I'm bi. Okay, that sounded different from the way I intended it to sound, so ignore it."

"You're welcome," Derek said easily and drank some more water while Stiles definitely didn't stare at the way his Adam's apple bobbed while he swallowed. 

Stiles could already tell that things would be so much more awkward now that he was aware of his attraction to guys. Especially his attraction to the man sitting right next to him, close enough that their legs were practically pressed together. The same man who might also actually be attracted to guys and had said that Stiles wasn't so bad, which was practically a huge compliment coming from him. There was also the fact that Stiles had a slight and insane suspicion that Derek might be a werewolf. His life was insane. 

"Um, what do you think about the werewolves' transformations in this movie?" Stiles asked, desperately trying to distract himself from Derek's hotness.

"They're ridiculous," Derek said with a frown. "If they rip all of their clothes off and practically explode out of their skin, how come they're wearing tattered clothes when they're human again? How come they have skin?" He gestured at the screen and looked practically offended.

Stiles choked on a giggle and hid his face behind the bowl of chips when Derek glared at him. "I don't think you're supposed to use actual logic while watching this movie, man. Vampire babies in huge eggs being lain by three beautiful women who occasionally turn into hideous monsters? Yeah, I try not to think about it too closely or I'll be traumatized for life."

"I guess that means you're traumatized for life."

"You know me so well, Derek," Stiles said with a brief grin. "Seriously, try not to think too closely about it because you will regret it. Hugh Jackman makes a pretty hot werewolf, though. Not that I'm into bestiality or anything, but it's like in Beauty and the Beast when the Beast turns into a prince again and you're disappointed because he's so ugly."

"The whole moral of that movie is that beauty is on the inside," Derek said.

"Ha! You've watched Beauty and the Beast; I knew that you're a big softy at heart. But seriously, who cares about the moral of the story? He should have stayed the Beast and lived happily ever after with Belle anyway. Like in Shrek when Fiona stays an ogre instead of ever becoming human again."

"She was more beautiful as a human."

"Beauty is on the inside, Derek," Stiles said, trying to imitate Derek's voice and failed miserably at it.

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles and then, before Stiles could even react, Derek had him in a headlock. He gave an undignified squeak and flailed, trying to get away but as he'd experienced before, Derek's arms were rock hard and seriously strong. 

"Derek, let me go," Stiles said and kicked at Derek's legs. "Seriously, this is so not cool, man. You've got a serious advantage over me due to the fact that you're like a brick wall and I'm a very squishy teenager." 

When Derek relented and let go of Stiles, he was almost disappointed. Even though he hadn't really been able to breathe properly, that had probably been the closest to Derek that he'd ever be. His head had been kind of squished against Derek's very nice chest. This whole realization of attraction really was bad for his health. He was still leaning a bit against Derek, and he contemplated if he could get away with staying like that without it being weird. Derek took the decision away from him by wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

The movie was heading for a dramatic finale but it was impossible to pay attention to it. Before, Stiles hadn't really thought that much about the times that Derek touched him, other than annoyance at the way Derek tended to lead him places as if he was a child or being comforted by the touch. Now it suddenly had an entirely different meaning when Stiles knew about his attraction to Derek. 

It wasn't like he was going to ask Derek to date him, or was going to pounce on him. Those were things he wouldn't do to with a friend, no matter how attractive they were. There was a niggling thought at the back of his mind that he might want to do those things with Derek, and that thought was terrifying. He'd had more than enough realizations for one day, so he didn't need to worry about possibly having a crush on his new friend who was also older than him by six years. Not that age was a problem for him, but he didn't think that someone like Derek would ever have any interest in someone like Stiles. 

Now when Stiles had finally almost gotten rid of his unrequited crush on Lydia, he didn't want to jump straight back into another one. There was only so much his heart could take, and he needed time to have his heart to himself while it was so battered and bruised by grief and guilt. He was probably only confusing physical attraction and gratitude for a crush anyway. It would go away as soon as he got used to his new, or at least more aware, life as a bisexual guy. 

On the screen, Van Helsing held a dead Anna in his arms and howled before he shifted back to a human and the howl turned into a scream. Stiles' breath stuttered and a shiver ran through him. He hadn't been this affected by the scene the first time that he'd seen it, but somehow it hit him like a ton of bricks this time. Derek's arm tightened around his shoulders in a way that was almost painful, but Stiles was grateful for the distraction. He didn't want to start crying like he had the last time they'd watched a movie together. 

Stiles turned to look at Derek who was still watching the screen with a strange expression on his face. It was like a mixture of pain, regret and guilt and Stiles wondered why Derek would look that way now. Without thinking about it, Stiles reached out to touch Derek's cheek and make him look at him.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked, frowning at the way Derek wouldn't look him in the eye even though they were face to face. "Derek?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Derek said. "Laura," he then added.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." 

Derek finally looked into Stiles' eyes and Stiles realized how close their faces actually were to each other. He quickly took his hand off of Derek's cheek and leaned away, a slight blush adorning his cheeks. Then, squirming out of Derek's grip, he got up from the couch and grabbed the remote, switching off the movie. He fidgeted and looked at Derek before quickly looking away again, his heart racing for no good reason.

"Um, I need to go to the bathroom," he said and fled.

He actually did have to go to the bathroom but he didn't have to do it in quite such an awkward way. Now Derek probably thought that he was just faking it to get away from the situation. He had no idea what the situation even was. It was just like him to make a mess out of things. The cheek touching had been too much and now Derek would think that Stiles was coming onto him or was in love with him. 

Just when things had become a bit less awkward between them, and Derek was talking more, Stiles had to do something stupid like think he had a crush on the guy. Maybe it was slightly less stupid than entertaining thoughts that Derek was a werewolf, but somehow he didn't think so. Those thoughts were more ridiculous and not at all serious, but his crush seemed more serious and less like a crazy idea. 

When he came back from the bathroom, Derek was still on the couch and he let out a breath that he hadn't realized that he was holding. Some part of him had thought that Derek might leave, but he was glad that that part hadn't been right. 

"So, you up for watching another movie?" Stiles asked, trying for levity and ended up sounding overly enthusiastic. "You get to choose from my awesome DVD collection that does contain lots of things that are almost logical and completely without werewolves."

"Yeah, okay," Derek agreed.

While they were watching the movie, Stiles sat further away from Derek, leaving plenty of space between them on the couch. Derek didn't say anything about it but Stiles caught him looking at him with concerned expression from time to time. Or maybe the concern was just Stiles' imagination. Stiles smiled and pretended that everything was fine. He was really good at doing that.


	6. Part Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this part: Some light violence and lacrosse related injury (not for main character) and mentions of past abuse (in Isaac's case).
> 
> At this point Hugh Jackman is pretty much a minor character in this fic. He really wasn't meant to be but apparently Stiles really likes him. I don't even know anymore. 
> 
> I've just finished writing part 8 and let me tell you, it was really hard to write. At some point I'll have to edit my tags a little bit because of it too. Now there's just one more chapter to write so that gives me about three months to write it with my current posting schedule. Honestly I think I'll really need it or perhaps even more. Especially since all my creativity suddenly goes to drawing instead of writing, but I'll do my best to get the chapter out on paper. Or the screen. Whatever.

Stiles tried his best not to keep freaking out at random and inconvenient times. Not about his bisexuality. He'd accepted that pretty quickly after Derek pointed it out because it did make a lot of sense. There wasn't anything wrong with it either, except now he admitted to himself that he was attracted to even more people who wouldn't want him in a million years. 

Like Derek who was what Stiles was trying not to freak out about every time he popped into his thoughts, which was practically all the time due to his quite massive crush on the guy. Stiles tried to convince himself that he could handle it, that it was just like his crush on Lydia had been. Except it wasn't at all like that because Lydia had never actually acknowledged him, and then she became his friend and his crush quickly faded. Not that she wasn't amazing, because she was, but they really would never work out as a couple. Fantasy Lydia had been different from real Lydia.

Derek had become Stiles' friend before Stiles realized that he had a crush on him, and there was no difference between fantasy Derek and real Derek. Other than the fact that fantasy Derek was a lot more naked and did things like kiss Stiles, and sometimes he turned into a wolf during the full moon. Just the usual stuff of fantasies and dreams. The point was that real Derek paid attention to Stiles and looked at him intently, as if he knew everything that Stiles was thinking - Stiles certainly hoped not. 

It made it much more difficult to deal with his crush when Derek was right there, close enough to touch. Though they hadn't seen each other since the movie night that had turned out rather spectacularly awkward after Stiles' bathroom break. 

Derek had surprised Stiles by texting him unprompted during the weekend, though, and they'd sent at least a couple of texts to each other every day after that. It was the first time that Stiles had a regular texting buddy who was someone else than Scott, but Derek's texts made Stiles' heart beat a little faster. Even the short, mundane ones about the weather or something like that. Of course Derek would choose to talk about the weather when he couldn't come up with anything else to say. It made Stiles smile in a probably ridiculous way but he couldn't help it. Texting about the weather just showed that Derek wanted to talk to him even if he couldn't find anything important to say. If he kept doing things like that, Stiles would really be in trouble. 

Stiles was already in trouble. He cursed inwardly and wondered why his life had to be so complicated. Maybe because he'd dragged his best friend out in the woods at night to look for a body. The day after, when he'd found out about Scott's death, he'd made bullshit excuses in his head. Thought that it was to understand death better, to get closure. That wasn't true. The truth was that he'd just thought that it would be cool to see a dead body, especially one cut in half. 

He'd had no respect for who she'd been before she died; to him the body had just been something cool and fascinating. Now he knew that her name had been Laura and she'd been Derek's sister. Stiles felt sick at the thought that he'd been so uncaring but he knew that if she hadn't been Derek's sister, or if he hadn't known Derek, he still wouldn't have cared. If Scott had just been some random person killed in an animal attack, Stiles would have been positively gleeful about the excitement it brought to Beacon Hills. He was pretty twisted come to think of it; normal people didn't get happy at the thought of crimes and death. 

Well, Stiles wasn't happy anymore, he'd gotten his punishment. He didn't deserve someone falling in love with him. If Derek knew what he'd thought about Laura... Stiles could never tell him, but it wasn't like Derek would ever be interested in him in that way anyway. Still, he couldn't help the warmth that spread inside of him every time he got a text from Derek. 

On Thursday during the lunch break he got another one and almost elbowed Allison in his eagerness to get his phone out of his pocket. He quickly apologized to her but she just scrunched her nose and smiled at him. 

“Who keeps texting you anyway?” Allison asked. “It happens pretty much every day and you light up like a Christmas tree every time. Did you meet a girl you haven’t told us about?” 

Stiles blushed and started stammering out something incoherent when Jackson cut in:

“Of course he hasn't met a girl. If he had they’d probably be all over each other at school so he could prove that he’s not a dateless loser. Oh wait, maybe she’s ashamed to be seen with him.” Jackson smirked.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Jackson. My fist has a date with your face if you don’t stop being such a douche.”

Jackson scoffed. Everyone kept forgetting that Stiles was a sheriff’s son and definitely knew how to punch someone so it hurt. He could probably win against Jackson in a fight, even if Jackson was well trained and better on a lacrosse field. Stiles was trained in self defense, even if you might not know it by looking at him.

“So who is it if it’s not a girl?” Allison asked. 

“It’s no one,” Stiles said. “You know, just my friend. The one you saw outside of Isaac’s house when we were picking up Lydia and Jackson.”

“Tall, dark and handsome keeps texting you?” Lydia asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. 

“Yeah, he does.” 

Stiles frowned, wondering why Lydia was so surprised. Though honestly he became a bit surprised as well every time it happened. Lydia looked at Stiles intently in a way that made it feel like she was staring into his soul. It was actually creepily similar to how Derek sometimes looked at him. He decided to avoid her gaze by finally reading the text that Derek had sent him. 

_What are you doing this weekend?_

Stiles grinned to himself and quickly typed a reply: _Nothing special. Why?_

“What’s his name?” Lydia asked and Stiles looked at her questioningly. “Your friend.”

“Oh, um.” Stiles wasn’t actually sure if Derek would be okay with Stiles telling anyone about their friendship. Obviously Isaac and Erica knew, and Stiles’ dad, but maybe Derek didn’t want any more people to know that he was hanging out with teenagers. It should be fine, though, Stiles decided. “Derek. Derek Hale.”

“I knew it,” Lydia said triumphantly. “I thought I heard Erica say Derek when she gave you his number last week. He came back to Beacon Hills around the same time as school started, right?”

Stiles nodded and it felt like a stab through his heart when he realized that Scott’s death hadn’t been such a long time ago. Yet he sat here like nothing was wrong and grinned like a loon because a guy texted him. He felt guilty, like he was replacing Scott with other people. 

Though he’d never care for Allison, Jackson or Danny the way he felt about Scott, Lydia or his dad. Those three he’d let in before his mother’s death, before he’d been afraid of letting people into his heart because they’d break it eventually. Derek was different. He’d come out of nowhere and gotten past all of Stiles’ defenses before he’d realized what was happening. Scott wouldn’t hate him for having a crush, right? 

“Who is he anyway?” Allison asked and broke Stiles out of his thoughts.

“He grew up here in Beacon Hills,” Danny said. “I had a crush on him already as a kid actually because he was on the lacrosse team and really cute.”

Stiles’ eyes widened and he stared at Danny. “You had a crush on him?” he asked, his voice squeaky. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t anymore,” Danny said with an amused smile. “I won’t try to steal your boyfriend.”

“Oh my god, he is not my boyfriend.”

Allison, bless her soul, asked another question before anyone could start teasing Stiles about how he was blushing. “If he grew up here, how come he came back? I mean, why did he leave in the first place?”

“His family all died in a fire six years ago,” Lydia said and Allison looked horrified.

“Oh no, that’s tragic.” Allison placed her hand over her mouth.

Stiles glanced over at the table where Isaac and Erica sat. They looked so morose that Stiles almost didn’t notice the new addition at the table because he was busy wondering why. Then he realized that Boyd was sitting with them and he’d magically acquired a leather jacket too. He was a big and quiet guy and Stiles had never paid much attention to him. Now he stared at Boyd for a long moment before Boyd looked back at him and he quickly turned his gaze back to the people at his own table. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Stiles said. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Derek wouldn’t want us to talk about him or his family behind his back.”

“Worried that your crush will find out about it and stop texting you?” Jackson asked with a fake sympathetic expression. 

“Shut up, Jackson.” Stiles glared at him until his phone beeped as another text arrived. 

_Thought we could do something on Saturday. Movie or something else._

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat. It almost sounded like Derek was asking him out on a date. Of course Derek didn’t think like that, though; it was just two friends hanging out. More like the bro dates he’d had with Scott. He really missed those and it wasn’t like he was trying to replace Scott at all, just maybe it’d be nice to get out of the house for something that wasn’t school or lacrosse. Okay, so he had been doing other things as well, but maybe being reminded of the good times he’d had with Scott wouldn’t be so bad. He probably wouldn’t start crying in a movie theater or something. Probably. 

He vaguely heard Lydia and Allison talking about something and Danny telling Jackson about the date he had lined up for the weekend. None of it seemed interesting to him and he realized that aside from Scott, Derek was really the only person he wanted to hang out with. Slipping into being a part of the popular group was only convenient. He felt horrible for thinking that way but he couldn’t help it. Biting his lip, he typed out a response. 

_Movie sounds good. We could get something to eat before or after?_

Derek’s reply came almost right away. _Sure, I’ll pick you up on Saturday._

***

Before Saturday would arrive, Stiles had to suffer through the rest of the Thursday and a Friday that seemed to never end. There was a lacrosse game that evening so he prepared himself to sit on the bench and freeze his ass off since it was getting colder. Jackson seemed more on edge than usual and was even ruder than he normally was which didn’t exactly make the day feel shorter. 

It was one of the nights when Sheriff Stilinski couldn’t make it to the game because he had a late shift. Stiles wasn’t bothered since he’d be stuck on the bench anyway. It was a habit for him to look up at the bleachers, though, and he spotted Allison and Lydia. Allison gave him a wave which he returned before he continued to let his gaze wander over the crowd. He spotted Erica and Boyd who didn’t seem bothered at all by the cold though their leather jackets were unzipped. Their gazes were focused on Isaac who sat on the bench a bit further away from Stiles. 

It was kind of a disappointment that Derek wasn’t there but Stiles supposed that it wasn’t such a surprise, even though Derek had been a part of the lacrosse team before the fire. Maybe especially because of that. Perhaps Derek didn’t want to be reminded of what he’d had before the fire. Though in that case it wouldn’t make sense for him lurk around at the Hale property in the woods. Maybe he simply didn’t want to watch a bunch of teenagers play a stupid game. 

To be honest, Stiles didn’t really feel like it either. He chewed on the finger of his glove and bounced his leg. The game started but he watched it with unseeing eyes, not actually paying attention to what was happening. At least not until a member of their team was tackled so hard that he fell badly and managed to hurt his wrist. It was obvious that he wouldn’t be able to play anymore that night, so coach Finstock sent Isaac into the game as first replacement. After that things became a bit more interesting. 

Isaac had gone back to being almost timid and staying out of the way at practice, but Finstock still favored him over Stiles. Honestly he probably favored everyone over Stiles and it wasn’t like Stiles could blame him, especially now when his head was out of the game. Anyway, the point was that Stiles had expected Isaac to stay out of the way like he did at practice. Which was why it was surprising when someone on the team passed the ball to Isaac. The pass in itself wasn’t that surprising but what happened next was. 

Stiles noticed that the guy who’d tackled and injured their team member was heading straight towards Isaac. It was a big guy and when he rammed straight into Isaac Stiles winced, expecting Isaac to fall just like their team member had. Instead Isaac stood as if he was glued to the ground and the big guy fell. Stiles got the urge to yell ‘timber’ but refrained, instead looking at Isaac incredulously as he ran with amazing speed towards the goal. He easily dodged members from the opposing team and threw the ball so hard that the goalkeeper almost seemed afraid to try and catch it. The ball soared into the net and the audience erupted in cheers. 

Stiles clapped his hands but frowned at Isaac who stood hunched over and looked like he was breathing heavily, like an angry bull about to charge. Even their team members looked hesitant to approach him for celebratory hugs. Then Isaac straightened out and ran away from the field, heading towards the trees. 

“Hey, Lahey! What do you think you’re doing?” coach Finstock shouted after him but it was useless since Isaac was already too far away to hear. “Alright, Stilinski, I guess you’re up.”

Stiles quickly turned his head from where he’d been staring after Isaac to look at Finstock with wide eyes. “What?”

“You heard me, get out on the field,” coach Finstock said, glaring at Stiles impatiently. 

If it had been any other time, a time when Scott wasn’t dead and Sheriff Stilinski was there to watch the game, Stiles would’ve been over the moon. As it was, Stiles wasn’t at all into the game and didn’t even have a clue whether they were winning or losing. Nevertheless he made his way onto the field. Honestly he only paid marginally more attention to the game while on the field than he had on the bench. 

The team did well even without much involvement from him. Maybe even because he didn’t get involved much. He mostly stayed out of the way, took a few passes and no incidents occurred. They won the game but Stiles couldn’t even feel that happy about it. His mind was occupied with the mystery that was Isaac Lahey. He looked towards the bleachers and realized that he couldn’t see Erica or Boyd anywhere in the crowd. Boyd was a big guy and should be relatively easy to spot. 

Stiles was startled out of his thoughts when Jackson gave him a friendly slap on the back. 

“Good job, Stilinski,” Jackson said. “You didn’t completely mess things up. Do you have any idea what’s up with Lahey?”

Danny joined them and Allison and Lydia came down from the bleachers to congratulate them, catching the last part of what Jackson had said. 

“Isaac has been acting very strange lately,” Lydia said. “In fact, that entire group of leather wearing freaks has.” She looked at Stiles with a calculating expression. “Has your Derek supplied them with drugs of some kind?”

“He’s not my Derek and he’d never do something like that,” Stiles said, gesturing wildly. _Though he might have given them a slight case of lycanthropy_ , he added in his mind. He couldn’t quite give up the idea of werewolves even though it was insane. 

“Are you sure of that?” Jackson asked. “He’s sort of got a drug dealer vibe.”

“Have you met many drug dealers then, Jackson?” Stiles asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’m completely sure. Besides, my dad approves of Derek and my dad is an excellent judge of character.”

“Approves of him, huh?”Allison said with a teasing smile. 

“As a friend to me, jeez. You guys are like a dog with a bone. Just stop trying to make it seem like I want to date anything that moves.”

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Allison said, looking ashamed. 

“It’s okay; I’m just kind of tired right now.” Stiles gave Allison a smile that she returned. 

“Let’s go get changed and then we can properly celebrate our victory,” Jackson said. 

“Oh, I can’t,” Allison said. “My dad said he wants me to come home pretty much straight after the game and I want to spend time with Kate anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to pass,” Stiles said. “I’m really tired.”

“I guess it’s just the three of us then,” Jackson said, wrapping his arms around Danny’s and Lydia’s shoulders. 

Lydia wrinkled her nose at her clothes being touched by Jackson’s sweaty uniform, but she didn’t move away. Probably because being the girlfriend of the captain of the lacrosse team gave her status and she wanted to flaunt it in front of others at every chance she got. 

Danny shook his head. “No way am I going to sit and watch you make out all night. And I’m seeing someone at a club tonight, remember?” 

“Fine, all of you are boring,” Jackson said but he didn’t look at all upset at the thought of being alone with Lydia. 

Those that wouldn’t see each other more that night said their goodbyes, and Stiles headed to the locker room together with Jackson and Danny. Jackson and Danny bantered back and forth but Stiles was too busy thinking about Isaac’s odd behavior. Isaac had shown some worrying signs of aggression since his dad had been attacked. Since he’d started hanging out with Derek. Though standing upright after being tackled by someone who was supposed to be stronger than him and not looking affected at all? That was more than just aggression. 

Stiles zoned out thinking about it and he showered and changed into his normal clothes almost without noticing. Jackson and Danny were used to him zoning out by now and they didn’t comment on it as the three of them left the locker room together. They headed towards the parking lot when Stiles stopped in his tracks and patted his pockets. 

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” Danny asked and stopped walking to turn and look questioningly at Stiles. 

“My phone must have slipped out of my pocket when I got dressed,” Stiles said. “I’ll go back and get it. I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

He gave them a quick wave which Danny returned and Jackson deigned to give Stiles a nod before he turned and jogged back towards the locker room. It wasn’t until he entered that he heard a raised voice and the sound of something big being slammed against the lockers. 

“You should have listened to me. You will listen to me.”

Stiles recognized that voice. He quickly walked along the rows of lockers until he found the right one. Derek was there and he looked furious, keeping Isaac pinned against the lockers. Their faces were only inches apart. Isaac’s eyes were wide and he looked terrified, almost more than what was appropriate for the situation. God, if Mr. Lahey had physically abused Isaac for years…

“Derek.” Stiles’ voice was sharper than he’d intended and Derek backed away from Isaac in an instant. Derek looked a little bit like a deer caught in headlights. Stiles would’ve laughed if the situation hadn’t been so serious. Actually a strangled laugh did escape him because he was a terrible person. “What’s going on?”

Derek’s expression turned into one of guilt but it was quickly replaced by impassiveness. Isaac probably hadn’t noticed the guilt but Stiles had.

“You should go home,” Derek told Isaac who nodded and quickly gathered his things, practically running out of the locker room. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek said quietly, almost too quiet for Stiles to hear. 

“I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to.” Stiles stepped closer to Derek who finally looked at him with an oddly vulnerable expression. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know.” Derek looked away again and Stiles took another step closer, placing his hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“Why did you?”

Derek frowned and looked at Stiles’ hand as if it had personally offended him, but Stiles didn’t take it away from his shoulder. “What?”

“If you knew you were going to beat yourself up about it afterwards, why did you do it?”

As if Stiles was the right person to ask such a question. He was firmly in the ‘do something now, realize that it was a shit idea later’ camp. He’d proven that a lot more than once. Derek was tense and looked like he wanted to run away. Like he didn’t want to talk to Stiles about anything that was actually about his own feelings, not Stiles’. Stiles could understand that, he really did, but he wasn’t going to let it go now. 

“Isaac’s been hurting people,” Derek said at last. “He hurt you that one time. He’s been lashing out since… since he doesn’t have to be afraid of his father anymore. I’ve been trying to find a way to keep his temper in control and instead I lost mine.”

Stiles looked at Derek incredulously. He couldn’t believe that Derek had actually told him so much and it was strange to hear him say so many words at once. The expression on his downturned face was so full of guilt that it made Stiles want to hug him. 

“It’s okay, Derek,” Stiles said, not really knowing what to say to comfort him. “No one’s perfect and you… you’ve been through a lot too so I’m sure Isaac understands.”

“He shouldn’t understand. I shouldn’t have to…” Derek trailed out and Stiles had no idea how that sentence could’ve ended. Suddenly all of the vulnerability and guilt was gone from Derek’s expression and there was a carefully blank mask covering it all, but it wouldn’t fool Stiles. “You should get home. It’s late.”

Stiles nodded, not even bothering with protests since he’d fully intended to just find his phone and go straight home before he’d walked in on Derek and Isaac’s argument. He went to his locker with Derek trailing close behind. The phone was at the bottom of the locker and he bent down to grab it. Then he straightened out and turned to face Derek who looked a bit guilty again, but it could’ve just been Stiles’ imagination. 

“So, we’re still on for tomorrow, right?” Stiles asked.

“Huh?” Derek looked confused and Stiles’ heart sank.

“You know, movie and food?” Stiles avoided the word ‘dinner’ on purpose because it’d make it sound like a date and he knew that it wasn’t one. 

“Oh, tomorrow’s Saturday. Right.”

“You forgot that today’s Friday? Kind of hard to miss with the lacrosse game and kids being out kind of late and all.”

“Yeah, I was just. Distracted.” Derek looked a bit uncomfortable but Stiles didn’t think that it was because of him at least. “I’ll pick you up at six?”

“You don’t have to pick me up, you know,” Stiles said.

Derek picking him up made it seem more like a date, but that was ridiculous because Derek Hale was not interested in dating him. Stiles had picked up Scott at his house thousands of times because Scott didn’t have a car and that had never seemed date-like. It was just Stiles over thinking things again because of his stupid crush. 

“We’re both going to the same place so it seems logical,” Derek said with a slight frown. “We can meet there if you’d rather-“

“No,” Stiles interrupted Derek. “It does seem logical. So you’ll pick me up at six then.”

He couldn’t help the way his heart beat slightly faster or the way a grin spread across his face. Derek looked faintly amused but again, that could’ve been Stiles’ imagination. Either way it wasn’t a bad kind of amused, like being amused at his expense like Jackson was most of the time. More like a fond kind of amused, if Derek was even capable of such a thing as being fond. Stiles had a sneaking suspicion that Derek was more than capable of such emotions. 

After having grinned at Derek like a fool for what seemed like forever but was probably just a few seconds, Stiles headed out of the locker room and towards the parking lot. Derek fell into step with him and they walked in companionable silence until they reached Stiles’ jeep. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Stiles said, sounding happier than he had any right to feel when his best friend was cold and buried six feet under. 

Though he really couldn’t help the jittery, nervous happiness that came from being close to Derek. Actually, having a crush wasn’t the end of the world. It was kind of nice in a weird way when he’d already realized that nothing would come out of it. Instead of making plans for how to make Derek fall for him or mope about how Derek didn’t notice him, he could just sort of enjoy the tingly feelings the crush gave him. Not tingly feelings below his belt because after Scott died all of his sex drive had sort of flown out through the window. Though now that his thoughts had already taken that path he wouldn’t be able not to think about sexy times with Derek. Crap. 

“What are you thinking about?” Derek’s voice broke through Stiles’ thoughts and Stiles flailed a bit. 

“What? Uh, nothing.”

“I said goodbye and waited for you to get into the jeep but you’d zoned out,” Derek said and looked at Stiles with a slight frown. 

“I do that at times,” Stiles said and almost fell over in his haste to open the door to his jeep and get inside. “Bye, Derek.”

“Bye, Stiles,” Derek said with a slight upturn in the corner of his mouth as he backed away. 

Stiles’ heart definitely didn’t skip a beat. Though he did smile to himself as he drove home. Derek was actually really his friend. Not like Allison or Jackson, Lydia or Danny. An actual friend who sort of opened up to him and they’d hang out together alone and sometimes just be silent in each other’s presence and it was good. It would never be like it was with Scott, but nothing ever would. Having a new friend really wasn’t like replacing Scott; it was more like getting someone he could talk to about Scott if he wanted to. Someone who could help keeping the memory of Scott alive even if they’d never met or gotten the chance to know him. 

Scott would’ve probably disliked Derek because Derek wasn’t as obviously nice as Scott almost always had been. They wouldn’t have gotten along at all actually, but maybe they’d try for Stiles’ sake. Not that Derek would’ve ever become Stiles’ friend if Scott was still alive. Stiles probably wouldn’t have given a damn about Derek more than as someone who could possibly bring a little bit of excitement to Beacon Hills for a week or so. He’d talk about it with Scott who would just wrinkle his nose in that slightly confused way he sometimes did when he couldn’t understand Stiles’ obsession with something, then they’d move on with their normal lives. 

Stiles gripped the steering wheel tighter as his vision became a bit blurry. He still didn’t want to live in a world without Scott but he didn’t want to be without Derek either. It scared him; since when did he get attached to someone so quickly? It had been rare even since before his mother’s death. He was majorly screwed. 

***

Already from the moment Stiles woke up he felt like a nervous mess. It shouldn't be a big deal; they were just two friends who would go see a movie together. They'd watched movies together before, but it felt different since they'd actually be out in public. People would see them together and know that they were friends. Derek wasn't ashamed to be seen together with Stiles. 

It really was like he'd hit his head and he was dreaming about this bizarre world where people like Derek and Jackson wanted to be friends with him. Though why would he dream about a world where Scott was dead? It was time to just accept the fact that this was his life now. There was no going back and he would never get to hang out with Scott ever again.

Stiles sighed and buried his face in his pillow. He missed the days when he could wake up without having a mess of emotions coursing through him. Days when he'd just stay sprawled out and slowly wake up without a trouble in his mind. When he wouldn't be nervous or apprehensive about anything, because he already knew exactly what he was going to do that day. Nag about his dad's eating habits and spend hours with Scott, playing video games or watching movies. It still hurt like a bitch to think about it but it was more numb now, like he'd wrapped a bandage over the wound so he wouldn't have to look at it anymore. So he could pretend like it wasn't there. 

There was a knock on his door and he rolled around to lie on his back. "What is it?" he muttered tiredly, rubbing a hand across his face. 

The sheriff opened the door and peeked inside, raising his eyebrow at Stiles. "It's already noon, are you planning on sleeping the entire day?" he asked. "I made breakfast."

"Huh? Why?" Stiles frowned. "You seem cheerful. Why are you cheerful?"

"Because I heard that a certain someone got to play in the game last night and won," Sheriff Stilinski said, looking at Stiles with an expression of amusement. 

Stiles groaned. "It wasn't like I won the game singlehandedly. In fact I barely even helped. It's nothing to celebrate, dad."

"I wasn't there last night so indulge me, kiddo." Sheriff Stilinski walked into Stiles' room and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Got any plans for today? I thought that we could spend some time together. I know I've been working a lot lately."

Stiles could tell that his dad felt bad about not having spent a lot of time with him, but actually he was kind of relieved. It made it easier for him to act like he was okay if the sheriff wasn't watching over him like a hawk. Of course the fact that he was glad about not spending time with the sheriff made him feel even shittier, though, and he made an effort to smile at his dad. 

"It's okay, dad, I understand. We can spend time today but I've got to be ready at six because Derek is picking me up. We're going to the movies and then we're going to grab something to eat."

"Is it time for me to make the speech about how I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it?" Sheriff Stilinski asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Stiles sighed and turned around to bury his face in his pillow again. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," the sheriff said and patted Stiles' back. "Now get your behind out of bed because we're going to eat breakfast together. You can tell me all about how excited you are about your date with Derek."

Stiles muttered some more complaints as his dad got to his feet and laughed on his way out of Stiles' room. After taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the day, Stiles rolled out of bed. He decided to shower and get dressed after breakfast and padded down the stairs in the t-shirt and boxers that he'd slept in. Breakfast turned out to be pancakes. Stiles had feared that it would be bacon and eggs - not that he had anything against bacon other than the fact that it wasn't good for his dad. 

They made small talk as they ate. Sheriff Stilinski told Stiles a story about one of his deputies and Stiles smiled and laughed at the appropriate places. Once he stopped thinking so much about acting normal and not worrying his dad, he actually started enjoying himself. He realized that he'd actually missed this quite a lot, just spending time with his dad. It hadn't been that long since they'd spent time together, but this was the first time that Stiles felt like it didn't take any effort on his part. For once everything felt kind of okay. 

He'd had a lingering sense of resentment towards his dad since the day in the woods when Derek got arrested. What the sheriff had said then had festered in Stiles' mind, but it had finally faded into something that didn't bother him anymore. It was stupid to feel resentful and angry at the very few important people who were still in his life.

Maybe the shards of him had been glued together to something passably normal, and he wouldn't have to make a conscious effort to hold himself together at all times. Though seeing Mrs. McCall would probably make him break apart again. Going to the cemetery to see his mom's or Scott's graves would make the panic attacks come back. He was far from actually being whole again; how could he be after only a couple of months? Pretending became a little bit easier every day. Someday in the future he might even be able to fool himself. 

Spending time with his dad helped Stiles with not being as anxious about the evening. The closer it came, however, made him jitterier until he couldn't sit still - his own version of still - anymore. 

He tugged on the hem of his shirt and then frowned down at his clothes. They were the usual combination of jeans, t-shirt with a print and a plaid shirt with a hoodie on top that he almost always wore. Maybe it wasn't nice enough. Though they were only going to a movie, and probably the popular diner close to the movie theater. He wanted to look good, though, but fat chance of that happening no matter what he wore. Looking up from his scrutiny of his outfit, Stiles saw that his dad was watching him with amusement. 

"What?" Stiles frowned and wrapped his arms around himself. 

"Isn't this the stage where you're supposed to run up the stairs to you room and try on every article of clothing that you own?" the sheriff asked. "Then you'll inevitably only have five minutes left before he's supposed to pick you up, and you'll decide to wear what you wore in the first place."

Stiles made a face and slouched down in his seat. "Very funny, dad. You know it's not like that. He's older and way out of my league." Only after he said it, he realized that he'd basically just told his dad that he wished that Derek was within his league. "I mean, that's not happening ever. I haven't considered it happening. It's not something I want to happen."

Sheriff Stilinski sighed. "Okay, son. Just," he paused and his face did that thing it did when he wanted to say something but it'd make him too emotional. "Just be careful."

Stiles swallowed heavily and nodded, feeling slightly crushed underneath the weight of how much his dad cared about him. The sheriff didn't care if he liked a guy, even a guy who was six years older and had once been suspected for murder. His dad just wanted him safe and whole and happy. It made Stiles want to be all of those things for him, but he'd always be the kind of person who recklessly rushed into things and happiness wasn't an option. He had been happy but because of his aforementioned tendency to rush into things, he'd completely screwed that up. 

"It's almost time for you to go, so if you have anything to do before that you better do it now," Sheriff Stilinski said. "I work the night shift again so I won't be here when you get home, but I still expect you to be home by eleven."

"Okay, dad," Stiles said, getting up from the couch. "I expect you not to eat anything unhealthy while I'm gone." He looked sternly at his dad. 

"Who's the parent here?" the sheriff asked. 

Stiles gave him a quick grin and then headed upstairs to go to the bathroom. He spent a couple of minutes making faces at himself in the mirror before he went to his bedroom to get his wallet. Making sure that he also had his keys and his phone, he walked back down the stairs just as the doorbell rang. 

It surprised him because he'd thought Derek would just wait outside in the Camaro, not bother with actually going to the door to get him. Stiles checked his wristwatch to see if he was late and that would be why but no, it was six sharp. He realized that he'd paused in the middle of the stair and quickly bounded down the rest of the steps to open the door. Derek looked just as unfairly attractive as he always did in his tight jeans, a white t-shirt and his leather jacket. 

"Hey, ready to go?"

Stiles nodded dumbly and managed to tear his gaze away from Derek to look at his dad, who walked out in the hallway to say hello to Derek. 

"It's nice to see you again, son," Sheriff Stilinski said.

Stiles' jaw dropped because had his dad really just called Derek 'son'? He glanced at Derek who also looked surprised, and there was a flash of something else in his eyes for a second before he composed himself. 

"It's nice to see you too, sir," Derek said. "Thank you for last time, it was nice."

"You're welcome to join us for dinner anytime," the sheriff said with a friendly smile. "Have my son back home by eleven, okay?"

"Yes, sir. We better go so we won't miss the movie." Derek grabbed onto Stiles' sleeve and gently pulled him out on the porch as he was still too stunned to function properly.

"Have a nice time," his dad told them and Stiles finally snapped out of it.

"Thanks, dad," he said, smiling at the sheriff. "See you tomorrow. Bye."

Derek nodded at Sheriff Stilinski and got a nod and a wave in return. Then the front door closed and Stiles and Derek walked to the Camaro. The silence wasn't awkward until they were inside the car and Derek drove in the direction of the center of town. Stiles drummed his fingers against his thigh and glanced at Derek.

"So," Stiles said after a moment, drawing the syllable out. "What do you want to watch?"

"Doesn't matter," Derek said. 

"Oh, no preference, right?" Stiles asked teasingly. 

"Right." The corners of Derek's mouth tilted upwards in a small smile. "There's several movies that begin at six thirty, thought you could choose one of them." 

"Yeah, alright, that sounds good. Any particular reason why you decided that asking me out would be a good idea?" Stiles asked and then realized that it was a bad way of putting it. "Obviously I don't mean asking me out as asking me out on a date, I just meant that you haven't asked me to go somewhere other than my house before. Wait, that didn't sound right either."

"I get it, Stiles, calm down."

Stiles took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, I'm calm. Why did you ask me?"

Derek shrugged and looked at the road with renewed intensity, as if he stared at it hard enough he wouldn't have to answer Stiles' question. "I just needed a break from things."

"What things?"

"Everything, I guess."

Stiles could understand that. Sometimes when he'd had a particularly rough time at school, or when the anniversary of his mom's death was drawing near, he'd go to the movie theater together with Scott. There was something about sitting in a dark room full of strangers that made it feel like he could escape from himself. Like nothing really mattered because no one else cared what was going on in his life, they just cared about what was happening on the big screen. Though he didn't know if it was the same for Derek. Probably not. 

The rest of the drive was silent. Or at least as silent as it could be with Stiles still drumming his fingers against his thigh while humming under his breath. It didn't seem to annoy Derek. Actually Derek looked as relaxed as Stiles could remember him being. Not that that was really completely relaxed. There was still some tension in his shoulders and jaw, but Stiles actually had to look closely to see it which was an improvement. Stiles hadn't realized that he'd been keeping such close tabs on the tension in Derek's body, but he'd also conveniently managed to be in denial about his bisexuality for god knows how many years. There could be a whole slew of things he did without even realizing. 

Derek managed to find a spot in a parking garage and they headed on foot towards the cinema. Stiles shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to ignore the stares they got from a few people as they walked down the streets. Though to be honest they were probably only staring at Derek. Some because they knew that he was Derek Hale, and had possibly heard rumors about him briefly being a murder suspect. Others because they simply thought that he was really hot. Which he really, really was and Stiles wished that he wasn't so aware of that because it made things harder. No pun intended. 

Perhaps some were staring because they knew what had happened to Scott, and knew that Scott and Stiles had been inseparable. It wasn't like Stiles had shown his face much in town since it happened. Sure, he'd been out that time with Allison, Lydia and Jackson but other than that he'd really only been to the grocery store. Come to think of it, his life felt even more pathetic now even though he was a part of the popular gang. He didn't feel like a real part of it, though, more like the token nerd guy that made the others seem so much more awesome in comparison. 

"Is it always like this when you go into town?" Stiles asked. 

"Always like what?" Derek asked, glancing at Stiles. 

"People staring at you. Or maybe they're staring at me but I don't think so because I'm not that interesting and you're... Well, you're you."

Derek frowned and looked around. A couple of girls who'd been blatantly staring at him quickly turned away and giggled. He sighed and rolled his eyes, like he was extremely tired of being so hot that girls stared at him and giggled with lust in their eyes. Or perhaps it was just Stiles letting his mind run away with him again. 

"Sometimes. I don't really pay attention to it," Derek said. "It doesn't matter. Does it bother you?"

"No, it doesn't really bother me. It just never happens to me, you know? Whenever someone stares at me it's because they think I'm an idiot, or to make fun of me or possibly because they pity me these days. Though I never really noticed it before, you know? Because I always had Scott and no one else really mattered when I had my bro there with me. I'm not saying that I don't enjoy hanging out with you like this, though, don't get me wrong. It's just that you're quieter than what he is... was, and lately I haven't been talking much either," Stiles paused to take a breath and Derek quirked an eyebrow at him, "so I notice it more. What other people are doing."

"That makes sense. Before I came back here to look for Laura, I lived in New York a few years. People don't care about strangers passing on the streets there. They mind their own business."

"You're never really a stranger in Beacon Hills. Unless you're completely new to the town but then you'll be assimilated within a week and everyone knows who you are."

Derek raised an eyebrow and tried to look unimpressed, but there was a slight tilt in the corner of his mouth that let Stiles know that he was amused. They reached the movie theater and the minute they stepped inside Stiles noticed the movie posters. He froze in his tracks and stared at them for almost an entire minute before he turned to look at Derek. The innocent expression that Derek desperately tried to pull off wasn't working on him. 

"You did this on purpose," Stiles said. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Derek said in a flat tone of voice but it still wasn't fooling Stiles. 

"You knew that there was a Hugh Jackman movie showing and that's why you asked me if I wanted to go to the movies with you. This is just a very elaborate way of teasing me for not realizing that I'm bi, or my attraction to him. I am onto you, Derek." Stiles pointed at Derek and narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't think you can fool me with that neutral expression. I know that you have an evil sense of humor underneath all that air of mystery you've got going for you."

"I'm not trying to tease you, I just thought that you'd enjoy seeing your crush on the big screen," Derek said seriously and pulled two tickets out of his pocket. 

Stiles snatched the tickets out of Derek's hand and stared at them. "You said that you were going to let me choose what movie to watch, but you had the tickets all along, didn't you?" He looked up at Derek who was trying very hard not to smirk. "Well played, Derek, I'm almost proud of you. My serious badass friend is finally growing up to become the devious little bastard I knew was in there somewhere." He pretended to be touched and patted Derek's shoulder.

Derek rolled his eyes and pulled Stiles away from where he was blocking the door as a couple was trying to enter. "Don't make such a big deal out of it, Stiles. It's alright if you don't want to watch the movie. Erica's got a crush on Jackman. She mentioned the movie and it made me think of you," he said and looked slightly pained, as if he couldn't believe that he'd just said something like that. "It's stupid."

"No, that's not stupid," Stiles said with a wide and probably ridiculous grin on his face. He felt warm and a bit tingly about the fact that something like that had made Derek think of him. Obviously he'd known that Derek had to think about him since they texted each other pretty much every day, but hearing it like this was awesome. "It's... definitely not stupid." He handed the tickets back to Derek. "Here, hold these while I go buy popcorn."

"But we're eating after we've seen the movie."

"Yeah, but dude, we can't watch a movie without having popcorn. It's tradition. Just wait here or wherever. I'll be quick, I promise." 

Stiles spun around so quickly that he almost tripped on his feet and flailed a bit as he righted himself. By now he was so used to it that it didn't even embarrass him, even though he'd made a fool out of himself in front of the guy he liked. The guy who'd just admitted to thinking about him because of something someone else said. That guy. 

He was pretty sure the girl he bought the popcorn from thought that he was some kind of lunatic because of the wide grin that was still on his face. Though frankly he didn't care what she thought of him because Derek had thought about him. Thought about him enough to tease him in an elaborate way which even included taking him to the movies. 

Once he'd gotten his popcorn - medium sized because they were eating dinner afterwards and he wasn't sure how much popcorn Derek would eat - he returned to Derek. By then it was definitely time to go take their seats in the movie salon. It was a bit crowded but not completely full and the audience varied from children with their parents, to groups of giggling girls, and couples who were probably just there to make out. 

"I think it's a family movie," Derek said, scratching the back of his neck. "So it might not be your kind of thing."

"There are robots, can't go wrong with that," Stiles said. "Okay, so you can go wrong with that but dude, I don't have anything against watching family movies. I still watch Disney and stuff sometimes, it's cool. Will it be okay for you, though? I know you say you don't have a preference, but you've got to have some things you don't like."

"It's fine. I wouldn't have bought the tickets if it wasn't."

Stiles nodded and turned his head to look at the screen. He liked watching the trailers before the movie. It gave him some idea of what he'd like to watch next, or what to definitely avoid. Also it was kind of like watching movies in under a minute which was a bonus. They changed fast and didn't have a chance to bore him before it ended, and he had less chance of becoming distracted by something else. 

He got started on eating the popcorn as he watched the trailers. Scott would always get a little mad at him for it, saying that the popcorn wouldn't last as long through the movie if you began to eat them before it started. Stiles liked it, though, because it meant that they were usually gone right before the real action started. Sometimes if the movie was captivating enough, he'd forget about eating and that meant that Scott got to eat more of them. Now Scott wasn't there, though, and he didn't have him whining about it. He'd never thought that he'd actually miss having Scott whining about something. 

Stiles shook those thoughts from his mind and glanced at Derek, offering him the tub of popcorn. Derek had seemed really focused on the screen but Stiles didn't have to nudge him to get him to realize the offering. He grabbed a handful of popcorn and gave Stiles a fleeting smile. It felt sort of like they'd done this before. They kind of had since they'd watched movies together at Stiles' house after all, but this was still different. There was a small part of Stiles' brain that kept calling it a date, but he tried his very best to ignore that part. They were friends and they were watching a movie together, no big. 

The actual movie started and a few minutes in Stiles already felt like he was screwed. Hugh Jackman had the audacity to have short hair, hot stubble and tight t-shirts that showed his very nice biceps. All Stiles could think about was how he wanted the guy next to him that had all of those things and more. 

It wasn't even a sexual thing because his libido still wasn't what it had been since before Scott had died, and he really didn't want to think about that connection at all. Scott had been like a brother to him and there was no attraction there, it was just that he'd been too depressed to get turned on since Scott died. Stiles thought that he definitely should stop thinking about this now before he grossed himself out forever. 

The thing was that he just really wanted to be close to Derek. Hold hands, hug, do the whole sappy romance thing that he'd never cared for that much. Not that he'd ever had a chance to be romantic with anyone, but it really hadn't been his focus. Maybe with Lydia but those fantasies were gone now too. Having sappy thoughts about Derek induced by Hugh Jackman while Derek was sitting right next to him felt like a new low in Stiles' life. 

He didn't realize that he was bouncing his leg incessantly until Derek put a hand on his knee to stop him. It wasn't at all like when Jackson had put his hand on Stiles' knee when he'd been at the movies with Jackson, Lydia and Allison. Derek's hand was a warm, heavy weight and it definitely stopped Stiles' leg from bouncing. However, it didn't stop Stiles' heart from practically bouncing into his throat. He smiled sheepishly at Derek who just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the movie. 

After a few more seconds it became very noticeable that Derek hadn't moved his hand from Stiles' knee, and it seemed like he didn't intend to. It definitely took away the little focus Stiles had had on the movie, and he was now fully focused on Derek. He tried to be discreet about it, though, only glancing at Derek from time to time while the thoughts raced through his head. 

Stiles knew that Derek was a very tactile guy. He had been even when they'd first met and then continued to bump into each other, since Stiles was an idiot who wandered into the woods. Back then Derek had been grumpy and seemed like he was seriously judging Stiles' choices, but he'd also touched Stiles quite a lot. Stiles realized that wording it like that was probably not a good way to dissuade potential sexual fantasies from popping into his head. 

The point was that Derek was the kind of person who'd give others casual touches. To lead them somewhere or comfort them, or mess with them like when he'd had Stiles in a headlock. Touching wasn't a big deal to him. It was still a big deal to Stiles, though, at least right now when Derek's hand was on his knee. Was keeping a hand on someone's knee strictly friendly behavior? It didn't feel like it. Stiles could feel the warmth from Derek's hand spread up through his leg. It definitely felt more intimate than anything he'd do with a friend. Perhaps he was just imagining things. 

What would happen if Stiles let his hand rest on top of Derek's? It would almost be like holding hands which was one of the things he really wanted to do with Derek. He could pretend that he didn't realize that Derek's hand was still there and it'd be like an accidental touch. Not even Stiles could be that clueless, though, and Derek definitely wouldn't fall for it. Stiles' hand was covered with salt and grease from all the popcorn he'd been stuffing his face with anyway, so it would just be kind of gross and not at all romantic. 

He entertained a brief fantasy of placing his hand on top of Derek's, and Derek would turn his hand around and lace their fingers together. Then Derek would realize how gross Stiles' hand was at the moment, let go of it and leave the cinema. Not even in his fantasies could he get good things. 

Stiles sighed and shook his head - which was acceptable behavior since the kid in the movie was acting like a stupid brat again. It was time to do something about the Derek's hand being on Stiles' knee situation so Stiles could stop thinking about it. He offered the tub of popcorn to Derek again, and Derek reached out to grab some. Except he used the hand that was not currently resting on Stiles' knee, which was just unnatural since that meant he had to twist his body a bit to reach with his free hand. 

That made the knee holding thing seem a lot more deliberate, instead of Derek happening to forget that his hand was resting on a body part of Stiles'. Though maybe he was just keeping his hand there because he was worried that Stiles would start bouncing his leg again. It could make sense because Stiles kind of felt like bouncing his leg right now. The urge was caused by stressing out over the whole knee thing, though, so it was really a vicious circle. 

Derek leaned closer to Stiles in the middle of his internal freak-out and whispered close to his ear, "Stiles, are you okay?"

Stiles glanced at him and nodded a bit too eagerly, plastering a smile on his face. "Yeah, I'm fine," he squeaked and got shushed by someone sitting in the row behind them. He lowered his voice a bit more, "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem tense." Derek squeezed Stiles' knee gently and that really wasn't helpful but Stiles wasn't about to tell him that. 

"The movie's just really exciting?" Stiles probably shouldn't have posed it as a question if he wanted to be convincing. "You know. Hugh being all muscle-y and attractive." He cursed at himself inside of his head, now Derek was probably going to think that he was turned on or something equally embarrassing. 

Derek looked kind of amused, though Stiles couldn't see him that well with just the dim, flickering lights from the screen to illuminate him. It seemed to be enough explanation for him, though, because he leaned back in his seat so there was some distance between them again. Stiles let out a quiet sigh and tried his best to relax since there was still an hour or so left of the movie, and he really didn't want to be practically jelly legged at the end of it. That had happened after he'd seen _Inception_ because he'd been so tense through the entire movie. His legs had trembled and he'd almost walked into a lamppost. It was a really good movie, okay? 

They, or mostly Stiles, managed to eat all of the popcorn without Stiles really noticing. He didn't realize until his hand hit the bottom of the tub and there were no popcorn there. Placing the tub on the floor, he swore to himself not to forget that he'd placed it there and then trip on it like an idiot on the way out. That had happened before and people had laughed at him louder than they'd laughed at the movie. Granted Jackson had been there, long before they'd become friends, and he and his posse acted like it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. They were such assholes. Jackson was still an asshole but that was kind of okay now, because Stiles was an asshole too.

Not having any more popcorn was kind of a problem. Rhythmically shoving popcorn into his mouth was a movement that kept him from fidgeting out of his seat. Now he kind of really wanted to squirm but he didn't want to jostle Derek's hand from his knee, no matter how much that hand had been bothering him the past twenty minutes or so. It was a nice kind of bother, even though Stiles had no idea what to do with himself. Actually now that he had no more popcorn to eat, the temptation of placing his hand on top of Derek's was becoming stronger. 

After deliberating about it for a few minutes, Stiles thought 'fuck it' and wiped the worst of the salt and grease off on his hoodie. It was kind of gross and he'd definitely have to remember to wash it later, but right now it didn't matter that much to him. 

His hand trembled slightly as he slowly moved it closer to its target. He tried doing it as discreetly as possible, so of course Derek glanced at him. Stiles quickly pulled his hand back and scratched his head, trying to make it look natural. Now he probably had salt in his buzz cut and it'd look like weird dandruff. Fantastic. 

Once Derek looked away from him, he moved in quickly for the kill and then instantly winced at using that phrase even inside of his mind, because he didn't want to be the cause of someone's death ever again. What he meant was that he quickly moved to rest his hand on top of Derek's. He glanced at Derek to gauge his reaction, but he didn't even react. Not even a glance in Stiles' direction or a twitch of his hand. It was actually kind of a letdown since Stiles had spent so much time freaking out about it. 

Why didn't Derek react at all? Maybe he was worried about hurting Stiles' feelings if he moved his hand. Or perhaps he was comfortable with it because casual touching was kind of his thing, and he wasn't aware that bros didn't really pseudo hold hands. Girls sometimes did but the rules for guys were different for some reason. Come to think of it, those rules were really stupid and they weren't official anyway. Maybe Derek hadn't really had any friends other than his sister since the fire, so he wouldn't know or remember those rules anymore. Though it would be a lot less confusing for Stiles if he knew whether Derek knew those rules or not. 

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Derek put an end to Stiles' renewed freak-out by turning his hand around and transformed it to a proper handhold. Stiles licked his suddenly dry lips and glanced at Derek who looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. What was that supposed to mean? Stiles really wanted to ask because even though Derek's eyebrows were very expressive, they couldn't tell him every nuance of what he was feeling. Especially not in a darkened theater. 

Stiles was really tired of freaking out and over thinking things so he leaned closer to Derek and whispered, "Is this a date?"

Derek looked startled for a moment but he quickly assumed a more neutral expression again, and his hand tightened around Stiles' for a second. Then he seemed to actually consider the question. Like he didn't actually know either. It probably wasn't a date if he hadn't intended it to be, though maybe he'd realize that he did want it to be a date now that Stiles had asked. The probability of that wasn't very high, though, because Stiles knew that he wasn't a catch in any way. Actually Derek even tolerating him as a friend was a miracle. 

"That wouldn't be a good idea, Stiles," Derek mumbled at last with a frown that made him look sort of constipated. He was really attractive even while he looked constipated and that was just seriously unfair. 

Then Stiles caught onto the fact that it hadn't been an outright no, which meant that the thought of dating Stiles wasn't completely ridiculous to Derek. His heartbeat was elevated and he got something as cliché as butterflies in his stomach. A stupid grin spread over his face and he bounced a bit in his seat, unable to keep himself from doing so. Derek looked confused. 

"I told you that it's not a good idea."

"Yeah, but that's not an outright no," Stiles said, his voice a bit louder than it should be and he was shushed again by the same person who'd shushed him previously. He once again lowered his voice to a whisper, "That's not a complete rejection of the idea which makes this the first time I haven't been completely shot down. This is awesome."

Derek still looked confused but apparently he decided that a movie salon wasn't the best place to talk. He looked at Stiles with a frown for a few more seconds before he returned his attention to the movie, though he didn't let go of Stiles' hand. There were some really mixed signals going on here, but Stiles didn't really care. He was just happy that he got at least this much from Derek. It was comforting at the same time as it made him a nervous wreck with butterflies in his stomach. No one could accuse Stiles' feelings of making sense or being uncomplicated. 

They watched the rest of the movie like that, still holding hands. Stiles' hand became a bit sweaty and it was kind of embarrassing since Derek's hand was warm but dry. Derek didn't seem to mind, though, so Stiles didn't pull his hand away. When the movie was over Stiles realized that, other than the fact that Hugh Jackman was hot and there had been robots fighting each other, he had no idea what it had been about. 

Derek released Stiles' hand when the credits began to roll which was kind of disappointing. It was a bit less disappointing when Derek swooped down and grabbed the empty popcorn tub right before Stiles tripped on it. 

"Oh, thanks," Stiles said and his face felt a bit flushed. 

They walked out of the movie theater without saying anything, and Derek threw the popcorn tub in a trashcan on the way out. When they were out on the sidewalk, Stiles bounced on the balls of his feet and rubbed his hands together. 

"That was... nice," he said lamely and Derek gave a short nod. "So, food. I'm starving."

"You ate a lot of popcorn," Derek said, quirking an eyebrow at Stiles. 

"Yeah, but I'm a growing boy, and it's been a while since I ate lunch. Do you have any preferences for where to eat or is this another of the things I get to decide?"

"Lead the way."

Stiles grinned goofily at Derek and walked towards the diner with the best curly fries. Derek followed close behind, a comforting presence and his warmth practically seeped through Stiles' layers of clothes though they weren't touching. The diner was pretty crowded, filled with young people and a few older men who looked like they'd spent a long time driving and were tired of life. Stiles wondered if they'd spent long trying to fit exactly with the stereotype of truck drivers, or if it just came natural to them. 

He managed to find a small table at the back in a secluded corner. The table was kind of rickety, and when they sat down it was so crowded that their knees bumped and their legs practically tangled together. Stiles could feel himself blush a bit and he grabbed a napkin, an unused one, from the table and began ripping it into little pieces. 

"Did you enjoy the movie?" Derek asked after a long and kind of uncomfortable silence. 

"Huh?" Stiles looked up from the napkin he was maiming and blinked. "Oh, yeah, it was pretty good. The robot effects were pretty cool. The kid was pretty annoying, though. Actually he kind of reminded me of me."

"You're not that annoying, Stiles."

"Thanks, but you didn't know me when I was a kid. Or, you know, before Scott... Anyway, I haven't always been as calm as I am now. A terrifying prospect, isn't it? That this is actually me being calm. I've always been a handful. Teachers had no idea how to handle me and it was pretty rough for my parents, especially before I got my meds. But you don't want to hear about that, sorry." 

"I don't mind," Derek said, sounding completely sincere. "I want to get to know you more."

"Oh my god, that's totally what people say to each other when they're on a date," Stiles said, flailing a bit and pieces of napkin floated down to the floor. 

"Stiles." Derek's expression became a bit pained again and it looked like he was going to say more, but was saved by a waitress who walked up to their table with a tired and bored expression. 

"What can I get you, boys?" she asked in a monotone voice that could even rival Derek's when he was in that mood. 

They placed their orders, Stiles wanting the usual burger and curly fries and Derek copied him. Probably because he hadn't even glanced at the laminated paper that the diner tried to pass as a proper menu. Once the waitress had walked away, barely even lifting her feet from the floor, awkward silence descended over them again. 

Derek looked kind of uncomfortable, like someone who was trying to come up with a way to turn someone down as gently as possible. Not that Stiles knew what that would look like because Lydia had never even noticed his crush on her, and if she had she wouldn't have let him down gently. He'd also never had to turn someone down personally because no one had ever seen him that way. 

"Okay, look, I realize that I made this thing really uncomfortable for you," Stiles said and Derek looked a bit surprised. "I really didn't mean to and I just want you to know that I'm not asking for anything. I get that you probably don't want to date me at all, because really, who does? And that's fine. It really is, because I'm happy with being your friend. Being your friend is kind of awesome, you know? So you don't have to say anything because it's fine."

"It's not that I wouldn't want to date you," Derek said and then promptly looked like he hadn't actually meant to reveal that, but it also seemed like he'd meant what he'd said. 

Derek Hale actually wouldn't mind dating Stiles Stilinski. Who would have ever seen that coming? Though this also meant that Derek didn't have any intentions of really dating him, but right now that didn't matter at all. Stiles had to pinch his thigh to stop himself from grinning like a loon and ruining the moment. He intended to deal with this like a proper adult, though his heart was hammering in his chest and he kind of wanted to pounce on Derek. 

"I get that this isn't the right time for dating anyway," he said quickly before Derek could continue, since it looked like Derek was about to pass out from the effort of having to speak about his feelings or something. "It's not the right time for either of us, considering everything's that happened lately." He paused and bit the inside of his cheek. "And you're older than me, which I don't care about by the way. You're so kind and caring behind that moody, scruffy exterior, and I feel lucky to be your friend. Sure, I'd like to be more than your friend but all that matters is that I get to hang out with you. So I don't really need dates or kissing or any of that. That's not what matters. What matters is you."

"Stiles," Derek said again. It seemed like the only thing he was capable of saying right now. 

Stiles had looked down at his hands while he was speaking, still tearing the napkin into tiny, tiny pieces. Now he looked up and was absolutely stunned by the expression on Derek's face. It was so raw and vulnerable that a lump appeared in Stiles' throat and his eyes burned with tears threatening to spill. He'd never seen Derek look so open or unguarded before and it was terrifying and sad, but above everything else it was beautiful. Derek was beautiful. Not because of his stupidly perfect face and hot body, but because he was Derek. Broken just like Stiles but still fighting, and he was the biggest support in Stiles' life now though he probably felt at least as shitty as Stiles did every day. 

"Wow, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get all emotional and stuff," Stiles said after they'd been staring into each other's eyes for what felt like ages, and he really couldn't take it anymore or he'd actually start to cry. 

"It's fine," Derek said quietly and his voice was a bit rough. "Thank you."

Stiles gave Derek a weak grin and then the moment was gone as the waitress returned with their orders. The silence between them was easier while they ate. It felt like they knew at least somewhat where they had each other, and that made things considerably less awkward. Stiles was kind of surprised by his own willingness of letting it go rather than persisting that since they both liked each other, they should be together as a couple. Things like that didn't seem as important anymore, though, not since Scott's death. He was just happy that he still got to have Derek in his life; that he wouldn't lose him. 

Of course Stiles couldn't stay silent through the entire meal. He started talking about random things, like what he'd done in school and about lacrosse practice, carefully avoiding anything that'd bring either of them too much pain. That meant that he couldn't really talk about what he'd done with his friends, because out of everyone in the group he probably talked to Allison the most. 

Sure, he traded insults with Jackson and received insults from Lydia. Sometimes he'd talk a bit to Danny but that was mostly about their chemistry homework, and what an ass Mr. Harris was to Stiles. When it came to actually talking about other stuff, Allison was his man. Girl. Whatever. He never talked about actual deeper stuff, like Scott or the things he talked to Derek about, but it was still nice. She was sweet and funny and had an unexpectedly sharp sense of humor. Stiles didn't think that Derek would appreciate hearing about that, though, seeing as he turned into a thundercloud every time an Argent was mentioned. 

Derek stayed mostly silent while Stiles talked, but he communicated his opinions about what Stiles was saying with his eyebrows and small tilts of his head. It was kind of fascinating to watch. He did say something now and then but he seemed content with just listening to Stiles. It wasn't the annoyed kind of silence, it was acceptance. Someone listening so intently and patiently was something that Stiles wasn't really used to. Most people had a limit, but tonight Derek looked relaxed and actually kind of happy. 

They finished their meals and Derek paid for both of them despite Stiles' protests. Derek argued that Stiles had paid for the popcorn, but Derek had paid for the movie tickets and Stiles had eaten most of the popcorn in the end. Finally the argument ended with Derek just staring at Stiles until he relented. 

By now, most people had already left the diner but the streets were still bustling with people. The youths of Beacon Hills tried to find excitement in the otherwise pretty boring town. Lots of people looked like they were heading towards Jungle, some of them barely wearing any clothes though it was getting really cold. Stiles shivered just looking at them, and before he could even realize what was happening, Derek wrapped his leather jacket around his shoulders. 

"Dude, you don't have to," Stiles said, spluttering a bit. "Won't you get cold?"

Derek shrugged. "I don't feel cold. It isn't that long of a walk." 

"Thank you." If Stiles discreetly brought up the collar of the leather jacket to take a sniff, no one had to know. It smelled really good, though, like leather and Derek. Which was really obvious come to think of it. 

Stiles had lagged a little behind while he was sniffing Derek's leather jacket like a big creeper. He was just starting to jog to catch up with Derek and instead ended up running straight into Derek's back. 

"Ouch." Stiles frowned and rubbed his nose as he took a step back. "Derek, what's wrong?" He took a step to the side and his frown deepened as he saw Mr. Argent stand in their path with his creepy toothpaste commercial smile. 

"Hale," Mr. Argent said with a short nod and then looked at Stiles. "And Stiles, was it?" His gaze hardened and Stiles had to suppress a shiver. 

"Argent," Derek said in a cold tone. 

"I'm sorry about your loss," Mr. Argent said as he looked at Derek again, not sounding very sorry at all. "Losing your sister must be hard. How exactly did it happen?"

"I wouldn't know, I wasn't there," Derek said. His jaw tensed and Stiles saw him clench his hand into fists. 

Stiles wasn't sure what was going on here. It almost seemed like Mr. Argent was taunting Derek about Laura's death, but he wouldn't do that, would he? Did he suspect that Derek was the killer, though it had been proven to be an animal attack? Stiles had briefly thought that Derek had killed his own sister, but the fact that someone else suspected it even after he'd been proven innocent enraged him. 

"Look here, you asshole," Stiles said, taking a step forward. "I don't know what you're trying to say here but Derek had nothing to do with his sister's death."

"Stiles," Derek said warningly and placed a hand on his chest to keep him back. 

Stiles didn't want to shut up or back down; he wanted to wipe the smug expression off of Mr. Argent's face. Though if Derek wanted him to stay out of it, he would respect that. For now. It was probably best not to get too involved before he knew what was going on. Perhaps it was some weird bullying thing because Derek had dated Kate or something. Stiles wasn't entirely sure if Mr. Argent even knew about that, though, so if he kept talking he might reveal something that Derek wouldn't want him to. Besides, Mr. Argent was Allison's dad and he didn't want him to forbid Allison from talking to him or something. 

"I also heard that your uncle is missing," Mr. Argent said as if Stiles hadn't even said anything. 

That was news to Stiles. He hadn't even been aware of the fact that Derek had any living relatives left. How many things were there that he didn't know about Derek? Actually, how much did he really know about him in the first place? Derek rarely gave anything away. Not information, not his feelings, nothing. Still Stiles felt that he knew him enough to know that he wasn't a bad person at all; he'd just had bad things happening to him. 

"The problem has been taken care of," Derek said with a stony expression that seemed like a cover for whatever was going on with his emotions. "There was no need to involve the... authorities. I've moved him to another place."

"I guess that makes you the head of the family, seeing as you're the only one left," Mr. Argent said with a small smile that made Stiles want to punch him. "I expect there won't be any further troubles."

"There won't be."

"Good. I'll let you get back to your evening." Mr. Argent nodded at Derek again before he walked passed them, giving Stiles a sharp look as he did. 

"What the hell was that about?" Stiles said, in what was supposed to be a whisper but sort of came out as a squeak, when he'd made sure that Mr. Argent was too far away to be able to hear them. 

Derek looked pissed off and sad but he just shook his head at Stiles' question. He placed his hand on Stiles' back and started leading him towards the parking garage. His expression was stony and closed off in a way that it hadn't been around Stiles for weeks. It worried Stiles and also kind of scared him a little bit, but if he felt pissed off about what Mr. Argent said, he couldn't imagine how angry Derek must be. 

"What happened to your uncle?" Stiles asked, because he was practically physically incapable of shutting up anymore. 

"He was the only one to make it out of the fire," Derek said. "He was burned badly and he's been in a fugue state ever since. Laura and I made sure that he'd get the best care that he could get here in Beacon Hills, but I decided that it was time for him to go somewhere else."

"Oh." Stiles had a feeling that there was something that Derek wasn't telling him, but he thought that he'd already pushed his luck by asking in the first place. Though there was one more question he wanted an answer to. "Does Mr. Argent know that you used to... date Kate?"

"No."

Stiles figured that that was as much of an answer as he would get, at least for now. He walked quietly the rest of the way to the parking garage and the Camaro. Silently he handed back the jacket to Derek once they reached the car, and their hands brushed as Derek took it from him. It seemed oddly deliberate and Stiles looked at Derek, catching a brief smile. At least Derek wasn't angry at him and it made him feel a little bit lighter as he got into the car. 

That didn't mean that he wasn't still worried about Derek, and curious as hell about what the full history was between him and the Argents. There was way more there than just the thing between him and Kate. Stiles' thoughts drifted towards his crazy theory about Derek being a werewolf and Kate and her family some sort of werewolf hunters, but that was too far out there to be the truth. Still he thought about it all the way home, and continued thinking about it even after he'd said goodnight to Derek and retreated to his room for the night. Could there actually be some truth to it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I forget like I usually do, you can also find me on [tumblr](http://lycanvirgin.tumblr.com).


	7. Part Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren't any specific warnings for this part. Except for terrible jokes perhaps.
> 
> I'm struggling with writing part 9 which is the last part of the fic, but I still have two months left to go before it should be posted according to my current posting schedule, so hopefully I'll have it done in time. Last chapters are sometimes so much harder to write than all of the other chapters of a story, though.

The start of the following week was almost disappointingly normal and boring. Stiles had thought that Allison might say something about her father's run-in with him and Derek, but it seemed like Mr. Argent hadn't told her anything about it. It made him wonder if maybe he should mention it, but he decided against it. He didn't need more teasing about his relationship, or lack of it, with Derek and it wasn't that important. 

Well, it was important but it didn't seem necessary for Allison to know. She seemed to have a pretty close relationship with her parents, and Stiles didn't want to be the one to potentially mess that up in any way. He already did enough to mess up his relationship with his own dad as it were, but at least things were fine between them right now. 

Since there were no new animal attacks and whatever animal it had been seemed to have disappeared, the sheriff wouldn't have to work as many long hours. That would give them more time to spend with each other, but that could potentially be a bad thing since it'd give Stiles more chances to mess up. Or to let on how badly he was actually hurting, though he tried his best to hide it even from himself. 

The school day passed by in a haze of normalcy. It was like everyone had forgotten the animal attacks, and Isaac's odd behavior or the fact that he'd not always been a part of a leather trio with Erica and Boyd. People acted like Stiles had always been friends with the popular gang, and had always been a part of the core four. No one seemed to even remember Scott anymore. 

High school kids had an almost frightening ability to adapt and forget. Stiles was kind of envious of them, even though normal was once again starting to become boring for him. It kind of made him want to crawl out of his skin just so _something_ would happen. The times the teachers had to tell him to sit still and be silent were increasing in numbers again. 

Once the last class for the day was over and done with, Stiles headed to his locker and quickly made sure that all the books he needed for homework were in his bag. Allison came over to him and they walked to the parking lot together. Lydia and Jackson were too busy making out to even acknowledge them, and Danny had already gone off to god knows where. When Stiles and Allison parted he couldn't quite remember exactly what they'd talked about. It made him feel a bit guilty but he felt tired and worn so he thought he could be excused. 

Lately he hadn't been sleeping well again. There was an increase in late nights of staying up, messing around on his computer simply because his mind wouldn't shut up so he'd be able to fall asleep. Then when he did manage to fall asleep he had nightmares that made him wake up, gasping for air. He really preferred not to think about them during daytime. It felt stupid and silly in the daylight but at the same time the dreams still terrified him. Nightmares weren't supposed to still be so scary during the day. 

When he got home, he made a beeline for the fridge. He sighed deeply once he'd opened the fridge door only to discover that there was practically nothing edible left. He'd totally forgotten about grocery shopping. Turning around he walked straight back to his jeep, only pausing to lock the front door. He should probably make a grocery list before going to the store, or he'd end up with a bunch of random crap again but he really couldn't be bothered. As long as he bought healthy food that wouldn't lead to his dad having a heart attack it was okay. 

At the store he inevitably started to think about the time he'd bumped into Derek there. Thinking about Derek led him to thinking about the whole werewolf thing. He really couldn't let it go. If nothing else it was a really good way of keeping himself from thinking about more serious things, and it also helped him stay somewhat entertained at school or while he was doing homework. 

He'd even started to think about the possibility of Derek being some other kind of mythological creature. Vampire didn't work because he'd seen Derek in sunlight and he hadn't burst into flames or sparkled. Stiles really didn't like to acknowledge the existence of _Twilight_ ; Stephenie Meyer should be ashamed of herself.

Other creatures he'd thought about were wizards, shapeshifters and unicorns among other things. He supposed that it wouldn't make much sense for Derek to be a unicorn, but once he'd gone down that road he might as well go all the way. 

He was so into his thoughts and perusing the shelves that he accidentally bumped into someone. Honestly that happened almost every time he was at the grocery store. You'd think that he'd learn but no, he was a hopeless case, doomed to harm at least one person every time he was in a store. Sometimes that person was himself and sometimes it was some sort of item, but he supposed that that didn't actually count as a person. 

"I'm so sorry," Stiles said, not looking at whoever he'd bumped into, because he just wanted to buy stuff and get out of there as soon as possible. 

"Stiles?" The all too familiar voice made Stiles look up quickly and he looked straight into Mrs. McCall's sad eyes. "I haven't seen you since," she trailed out quickly and cleared her throat. "Hi, how have you been?"

"Oh, you know, just the usual," Stiles said uncomfortably. "And you?"

"I've been hanging in there," Mrs. McCall said with a barely there smile. "Oh, while I have you cornered I want to thank you for the flowers."

"What flowers?" Stiles' expression went from uncomfortable to confused. 

"The ones you've been leaving on Scott's grave every week." Mrs. McCall scrunched up her nose and tilted her head to the side in a way that was painfully reminiscent of Scott. 

Stiles hadn't even been to Scott's grave since the funeral. He was about to tell her that when something made him pause and think. Who would possibly go to Scott's grave every week? Scott didn't really have anyone besides Mrs. McCall and Stiles. The chances of it being Mr. McCall were pretty much zero. There was Sheriff Stilinski, but he could barely even bear to go to the cemetery once a year for the anniversary of Stiles' mom's death. The only other person Stiles could think of was Derek, though he didn't know why he'd leave flowers on Scott's grave. Stiles just somehow knew that he was right. 

"Right, those flowers," Stiles said with a weak laugh. "No problem. He's still my best bud, you know." He was dangerously close to crying in the middle of the grocery store. 

"I know," Mrs. McCall said and gave Stiles' shoulder a squeeze. "I was wondering if you might want to stop by some day. I thought that you might want to go through some of Scott's things, maybe keep something of his as a memory."

"I'm really busy right now with school and lacrosse and friends and stuff," Stiles said quickly, almost panicking. "But maybe later. It'll still be there, right? I don't have to do it right now?"

"Of course. I'll let you get back to your shopping. Take care, Stiles." Mrs. McCall gave him another sad but warm smile. 

"Yeah, you too. You take care too." Stiles almost jogged in his eagerness to get away from Mrs. McCall. He felt really bad about it but he couldn't help it. It was just too much, the thought of going through Scott's things, or even stepping a foot anywhere near Scott's room. If he couldn't even stand the thought of going to Scott's grave, how would he be able to go to Scott's room where he'd been very much alive? The reminder that Scott would have still been there if Stiles hadn't dragged him along would be too much. 

Stiles placed things into the shopping cart on autopilot and once he was in his jeep on his way home, he couldn't even remember what he'd bought. He hoped that it wasn't anything unhealthy or unnecessary. It would be just his luck to spend money on something that he didn't even like or need. They weren't exactly rolling in money, though they weren't bad off either. 

Running into Mrs. McCall had definitely made him frazzled. It wasn't her fault and she was still lovely and practically like an extra mother to him, but seeing her was just too painful for him right now. She couldn't have it easy at all, still working long shifts at the hospital and coming home to an empty house. It made Stiles feel weak in comparison because she openly showed her grief, but she still found the strength to go on. Stiles almost envied her and then felt sick for even thinking like that. 

He got home and unpacked the groceries he'd bought. Thankfully there wasn't anything too weird in any of the bags. He'd forgotten that he'd gone to buy food because he was hungry, and headed straight to his room when he'd finished unpacking. 

Dumping his school books out of the bag and onto the bed, he prepared himself for several long hours of doing homework. It would distract him from being sad or panicked, and if he got ahead on all of his homework he wouldn't have to do any for the rest of the week. It was a win/win situation. Or it would have been if it wasn't for the reason why he decided to do all of his homework early in the first place. 

***

The emotional stress brought on by seeing Mrs. McCall again almost made Stiles forget about the whole flower thing. It was one of the first things that came into his mind when he woke up the next morning, though, and he decided to question Derek about it as soon as possible. 

He could just send a text asking him about it, but that didn't feel like a good idea for some reason. It was too personal to be handled with a simple text message. He wanted to see Derek's face as he asked him about it. It would make it more difficult for Derek to lie too, if that was something that he might be likely to do. 

Stiles sent Derek a text anyway just because. They hadn't exchanged a single text the previous day and that was out of the norm. Maybe Derek was just busy with something. Stiles had simply forgot to text Derek because he was too tired and then too upset, so was it really that strange that Derek would skip one day of texting him? At least they'd texted each other quite a lot on Sunday, the day after their almost date. That was enough to assure Stiles that he hadn't scared Derek away by practically confessing his feelings for him. 

At school everything was normal. Allison was a bit more silent and distracted than normal, but everyone had an off day now and then so Stiles wasn't that concerned. If it was something big she'd probably talk to Lydia about it after school. The two girls had really become close friends as the weeks progressed, and Stiles was almost jealous of how easy it seemed for them. 

It reminded him of when he and Scott first became friends, seamlessly gliding into what would become Stiles' best and only friendship at the time. Then again, everything reminded him of Scott. What Allison and Lydia had was probably not at all what he'd had with Scott, because friendships couldn't be compared to that. He sighed and shook his head to clear it of the depressing thoughts. 

At home not everything was normal. It was normal when he unlocked the front door and came home to an empty house. His dad was still at work and would be until about nine o'clock unless he ended up working overtime. Stiles tried to tell the sheriff that he didn't have to do everything, he had deputies to do some stuff for him but Sheriff Stilinski was stubborn. It was a family trait. 

It was normal when he walked up the stairs and into his room, tiredly dumping the bag on the floor. He automatically closed the door without as much as a glance at the room at large. Then he looked up and only managed to stop a shriek from escaping him by slapping his hand over his mouth. Derek sat slumped over on his chair against the wall, looking extremely weary. 

"Derek, what's wrong?" Stiles asked once he'd managed to make his heart feel like it wasn't about to jump out of his chest. 

Derek flinched as if he hadn't even noticed Stiles coming in, even though he'd made the same amount of noise as a herd of elephants on his way up the stairs. At first it was almost like Derek didn't see Stiles though he was looking straight at him, then the light of recognition sparked in his bloodshot eyes. 

"Stiles," Derek said, his voice rough. "Sorry, I just had a bad day. I just wanted somewhere I feel like I can actually rest."

"Dude, if you need to rest, you know you can always use my bed, right?" Stiles frowned and rolled his desk chair closer to his bed and sat down. "There's no need to sit on that uncomfortable chair." He gestured towards where Derek was sitting.

"Last time I sneaked into your room through your window, you freaked out."

"Well, we weren't exactly friends then and it was really unexpected and creepy. It actually still is, by the way. Next time you decide that you need somewhere to rest and that place is my room, can't you send me a text so I'm prepared to find you here? You're free to make yourself at home as long as I know you're here."

"Okay." 

Derek nodded and slowly got to his feet, making Stiles' gaze travel across his body. Though there was one detail in particular that caught Stiles' attention. He flailed and almost fell off of the chair as he had a bit of a freak-out. 

"Dude, is that blood on your shirt?" he asked, pointing at the brown stains on Derek's henley. 

Derek looked down at the stains and blinked slowly. "Yeah, it would seem so."

"What happened?" Stiles was practically panicking by now and he rushed to Derek's side.

Derek placed his hands on Stiles' shoulders to keep him at a distance and stop him from touching the stains. "I just get these," he paused, looking a bit pained, "horrible nosebleeds. It happens sometimes when I have a bad day."

"You get horrible nosebleeds?" Stiles asked incredulously. "You, Derek badass Hale, get nosebleeds? Without even getting punched in the face or anything?"

"Yes," Derek snapped. 

"Wow, okay, no need to bite my head off." Stiles put his hands up with his palms towards Derek in a placating gesture. "Dude, do you want to borrow one of my shirts? It can't be nice, walking around with a shirt with blood on it. If dad saw you he might flip and think that you've been injured, kind of like I did."

"Yeah, okay." Derek took his hands off of Stiles' shoulders, but instead of simply pulling them away, he let them slide down Stiles' arms first. 

The gesture made Stiles' heart beat a little faster and he quickly took a step back, licking his lips. He didn't need to act like a preschooler with a crush just because of a casual touch like that, not when he knew that if circumstances were different Derek might actually kiss him. That was something that he really didn't need to be thinking about right now either. He turned away from Derek to find a shirt that could possibly fit him. They were about the same height, but Derek had much bulkier muscles than what he did. 

"Maybe you could wear this one," Stiles said teasingly and took out a blue and orange t-shirt he found in one of his drawers. He wasn't even sure why he had that shirt; he had no memories of ever wearing it. 

Derek took one look at the t-shirt and then looked at Stiles with an expression which clearly said 'no'. Stiles shrugged and continued his search. Finally he found a brown t-shirt which looked like it would be a bit big on himself, but perfect for Derek. He handed the t-shirt to Derek who dropped it on the chair and promptly stripped out of the henley. 

That was a side effect of offering Derek one of his shirts that Stiles hadn't thought about. Stiles gulped as he took in Derek's chest and abs, feeling a bit like he wanted to mash his face against those abs and stay there forever. Then Derek turned around to grab the t-shirt and put it on and Stiles got a glimpse of his tattoo. His fingers itched to touch but the t-shirt covered the tattoo before he got the chance to. It was probably for the best but Stiles couldn't help the small, wounded noise that escaped him, barely loud enough to be audible.

Derek turned back around and looked questioningly at Stiles. He looked so exhausted and small somehow that Stiles just wanted to hug him. It wasn't the first time that Stiles had gotten that urge, but it was the first time he really followed through. He stepped closer to Derek and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. At first Derek tensed up, but then he seemed to almost melt against Stiles and returned the embrace. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Stiles asked quietly, hoping that Derek would understand what he meant. 

"No," Derek said, but he didn't sound defensive like he sometimes did when he felt that Stiles was asking too personal questions. 

"Okay," Stiles said and gave Derek's back a pat before he pulled away. He really wanted to just keep hugging Derek, but sooner or later it would become awkward. Or at least it'd bring him a bit closer to wishing for things that he couldn't have at the moment. "Feel free to use my bed to take a nap if you'd like."

"What about you?" 

"I'm probably just going to mess around on my computer a bit."

Derek nodded slowly and walked over to the bed, taking his shoes off before he lay down on his stomach on the bed. He hugged one of the pillows and practically shoved his face into it. Stiles just stood and stared for a bit because he'd never seen Derek act quite like this before. Then he shook his head and moved back to the computer chair, sitting down before he scooted closer to his desk and opened his Mac. 

It wasn't until he'd been scrolling down his dashboard on _tumblr_ for several minutes and saw a picture of a flower that he remembered what he wanted to talk to Derek about. He turned around to look at Derek who was no lying on his side, back facing Stiles. Biting his lip, Stiles thought that it probably wasn't the best timing to ask Derek about anything. He should let him rest. No one had ever accused Stiles of being full of tact, though, and he wanted to ask before he forgot again.

"Derek, are you asleep?"

"Yes," Derek mumbled and Stiles rolled his eyes. 

"Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"Why have you been leaving flowers on Scott's grave?" Stiles blurted out the question a bit too loud and his voice cracked on the last word. 

Derek visibly tensed and then slowly rolled over to look at Stiles. His hair was mussed and he looked groggy and adorable. It was a bit too much for Stiles to handle right now, so he turned around and looked at his computer again while he waited for Derek's answer. 

"I had Laura buried at the cemetery once her body was released," Derek said quietly, sounding a bit broken. 

Stiles hadn't even thought about what had happened to Laura's body, and he hadn't thought to ask Derek about the funeral. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I should have been there."

"No, you shouldn't have." Derek's tone was soft and Stiles understood that he didn't mean it in a bad way. More like he wanted to protect Stiles from the pain of going through another funeral. "I saw Scott's grave and I thought that you wouldn't be able to go there yet. I decided to leave flowers every time I went to place flowers on my family's graves. It was stupid."

"No, it wasn't stupid." Stiles spun around on his chair to look at Derek again, seeing his sad and guilty expression. "Thank you. It means a lot to me that you," he paused, licking his lips. "That you care that much. Mrs. McCall thought I left the flowers. It seemed to mean a lot to her." He looked down at his hands and bounced his leg. "I know I should've been the one to do it but I just can't."

"I understand."

"I'm sorry; I'll let you rest now."

"Stiles, it's fine," Derek said sincerely and Stiles looked at him to catch the brief smile on his face. "Thank you for letting me sleep here."

Stiles nodded and smiled weakly at Derek before he turned back around again to continue scrolling through his dash. Half a minute passed before he heard Derek speak again, so softly that Stiles thought that he must have imagined it. 

"It's the only place I feel safe."

He glanced over his shoulder at Derek but he looked like he was already sleeping. It must have been Stiles' imagination. Wishful thinking perhaps, even though there was no real joy in hearing that Derek only had one place where he felt safe. Though that place being here, in Stiles' bedroom together with Stiles did make him feel warm inside. Derek trusted him, otherwise he wouldn't be there sleeping in Stiles' bed. Honestly Stiles didn't know if he was worthy of that trust, but he'd try his best not to let Derek down. 

After about an hour of dicking around on his computer, Stiles was beginning to feel really hungry. Sometimes he had a tendency to forget all about food when his dad wasn't at home. Somehow feeding others kind of felt more important than feeding himself. It was kind of a miracle he ever got anything done when he spent so much time by himself, forgetting about the things that normal humans were required to do to survive. Or at least not stink like Stiles did when he forgot to shower. 

He got to his feet and stretched with a low groan, glancing at Derek who was still sleeping. Derek looked younger when he was relaxed. Stiles didn't quite go as far as think the cliché that Derek looked innocent like a child because let's face it, there was nothing innocent about the guy. He looked more like a wet dream than ever, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. 

Stiles was really beginning to feel like a total creep, watching someone who was sleeping, so he quickly left his room to go down to the kitchen. He didn't feel like cooking anything that would take too much effort, but he also thought that Derek might be hungry when he woke up. That meant that he should at least properly cook something instead of just making sandwiches for himself. Besides, he wanted his dad to have something healthy to eat when he finally got home from work. 

Cooking was an automatic thing for him by now. He didn't have to focus on it to make sure that he didn't burn anything or mix in the wrong ingredients. The only real danger was if he forgot to set a timer and then wandered out of the kitchen. It was best to stay put during the entire time he was cooking or unfortunate incidents could occur. 

When he was younger and he was just starting to cook it had been worse. People had stopped bringing food around a couple of weeks after his mom's funeral, and he was getting tired of takeout. He also knew about the risks of eating unhealthy despite his youth and he didn't want to lose another parent. It had been tough, following the recipes from his mom's cookbook while tears burned in his eyes. He'd messed up a lot in the beginning and he'd almost started a fire more than once, but it got easier as the years passed by. 

Now he knew all of his mom's favorite recipes by heart, but he could only cook a few of them regularly because the others were unhealthy. Every time he cooked one of his mom's favorites, and it happened to be one of the rare times he actually sat down to have dinner together with his dad, the sheriff would get a sad, faraway look in his eyes. It hurt but it was also better than locking all of the memories of her away. They never spoke about her but Stiles didn't want to forget. 

His cooking never tasted as good as his mom's had but that was okay. That way he wouldn't override the memories, but simply remind himself of her instead. Now, though, he cooked one of the things he'd learned thanks to the internet. He hadn't been able to cook any of his mom's favorites since Scott had died. It was too sensitive and he couldn't handle more pain right now. Sometimes when he hadn't had nightmares for once, he woke up and had forgotten that Scott was gone. Then he remembered and the pain felt fresh and raw, as if it had only just happened.

With just a few minutes left until the food would be ready, Derek padded into the kitchen. He hadn't put his shoes back on and the sight of his sock clad feet made Stiles almost melt. Which was really strange come to think of it because he definitely didn't have a foot fetish. Actually feet were kind of gross. It probably had to do with how vulnerable Derek looked. His hair was sticking up in all directions and he rubbed the sleep out of his bleary eyes. 

"It smells good," he said, his voice hoarse from the quite long nap he'd taken. 

"Thank you, it's nothing special," Stiles said, finally tearing his gaze away from Derek to make sure that the food wasn't burnt. "It's nothing like what you made for me. That was pretty amazing. Whatever I cook just turns out decent."

Derek walked closer to Stiles, standing almost pressed up against him to peer over his shoulder. His hands landed on Stiles' shoulders and he squeezed gently, making Stiles both tense and relax in a confusing combination that threatened to make him fall over. He thought that his crush would be kind of manageable; knowing that Derek liked him too, but they'd made a mutual decision to just be friends. Stiles had been totally wrong because it wasn't manageable at all. He licked his suddenly dry lips and had to make a focused effort not to lean back against Derek. 

"It'll be done in a minute," Stiles said, trying to sound natural but his voice wavered and cracked. He winced and hoped that Derek would still be too tired to notice. "Can you set the table, please?" 

"Yeah, okay," Derek said and gave Stiles' shoulders another squeeze before he moved away. 

Stiles was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. His brain seemed to shut up whenever he was close to Derek. Or at least it shut up about anything other than Derek. All he could focus on was the warmth practically radiating from his body, or how much he wanted to kiss him. That was nicer than most of Stiles' other thoughts, but he didn't want to make the whole not dating thing harder for himself. Derek was kind of giving seriously mixed signals, doing stuff that Stiles saw as couple type things when he said that the two of them being a couple was a bad idea. 

The mature part of Stiles' brain that said that it would be a bad idea for them to date, at least right now, became overruled by the part that wanted to cuddle close to Derek and kiss him. His fingers itched to slide underneath Derek's shirt, or his own shirt as it were, and touch the defined abs. 

Stiles was practically drooling but he shook his head and took the pan off the stove. Derek wasn't ready for something like that and he knew that neither was he, so he should stop fantasizing about it before it got too hard. Pun not intended. It was really inconvenient that his libido was choosing to slowly return to him now. 

Derek had already set the table and he was seated at the table, still looking half asleep. Stiles' brain was taken over by more innocent thoughts of tucking Derek in and making sure that he got enough sleep. Satisfied that he would be able to sit through dinner without making a complete fool out of himself, Stiles set the food in the middle of the table and sat down. 

"Go ahead," he said, gesturing at the food. 

"You first," Derek said, frowning at Stiles.

"No, you're my guest and you get to take food first. Don't argue with me, Derek, because you won't win."

The corner of Derek's mouth twitched and he nodded. "Alright." He helped himself to a quite big serving of food.

Stiles smiled, pleased, and loaded his plate with his own, smaller portion. Not that it actually was that small, it was just that Derek had really taken a lot of food. Luckily Stiles had made a lot of it so there would still be leftovers for his dad to eat. 

"So, did you sleep well?" Stiles asked after they'd been eating in silence for awhile. 

Derek quickly finished chewing his food and swallowed before he replied, "Yes, thank you. I hope it didn't bother you, having me there. If I was in the way you could just have woken me up."

"You weren't in the way," Stiles said, not giving the same courtesy of chewing and swallowing before he spoke. "I was just at my desk anyway and if I'd wanted to listen to music or watched something I would've just used my headphones. You're free to use my bed again after we eat in case you want to sleep more."

"I can't do that." Derek squirmed a bit, looking uncomfortable. 

"Of course you can. Dude, you still look tired as hell. Where have you been staying lately anyway? You're not still staying with Isaac, are you?"

"I've been around."

"Don't tell me you've been sleeping in your car or something. At least tell me that you've been staying at a motel."

"I don't sleep well with other people around me," Derek said, shrugging. At Stiles' raised eyebrows he added, "Around people I don't know. The sounds and smells. It makes me on edge."

"So you have been sleeping in your car?" Stiles asked. 

"Not in my car."

Stiles got a sinking feeling in his stomach and he stared at Derek, fork halfway to his open mouth. That couldn't mean what he thought that it meant. There was no way that Derek was sleeping in the burnt out shell of his old family home. By how miserable Derek looked without his usual facade of stoicism, Stiles feared that he was correct. Even if motels made Derek uncomfortable, he should be able to do better than that. Stiles was pretty experienced in self punishment by now, but he'd never sleep in a place that was sure to give him worse than normal nightmares. The place didn't even have a proper roof or walls which meant that it had to get really cold at night. 

"Derek, why haven't you told me this?" Stiles asked, gesturing wildly with his hands and didn't notice how some of the food flew off his fork and landed on the floor. "You can't sleep there. Shit, it's a miracle that you still look this amazingly hot when you don't even have a proper bed or a bathroom. How do you even shower?"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I borrow Isaac's bathroom. Or I go to a motel during the day."

"You're either going to stay at Isaac's or a motel, or I'm going to force you to stay here with me." It looked like Derek was about to protest so Stiles shook his head and said, "No, I'm not kidding. It's unacceptable for you to live like that. I'm sure my dad would say the same if he knew."

"I just haven't had time to find another place to live yet. It's not a big deal. After Laura and I left Beacon Hills," Derek paused and cleared his throat. "We sometimes had to live places way worse than that. It's fine."

"It's not fine. It's so far from fine that Fran would even lose her last name if she came anywhere near you."

"What are you talking about?" Derek asked, giving Stiles a blank look. 

" _The Nanny_?" Stiles said, looking at Derek expectantly but received the same blank look again. "Fran Fine? It's a TV show, I used to watch it with my mom." He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "That's not the point anyway. The point is that I refuse to let you stay there when I can do something about it."

"I'll stay with Isaac," Derek said, sighing. 

"Do you promise?" Stiles was a bit hurt somehow that Derek would choose to stay with Isaac instead of with him, but he guessed that he could understand. Besides, living together with Derek wouldn't make his crush any easier for him. 

"I promise."

"Good. And you're going to go and sleep more in my bed once we're done eating. If you're so badly stressed that you even get nosebleeds it's got to be bad. You've definitely earned more than a few hours of sleep in a proper bed, dude."

Derek smiled briefly and nodded. "Okay, thanks."

"No problem," Stiles said with a grin. "I might join you anyway."

Derek almost choked on the food he'd just put into his mouth. Stiles flushed and shook his head, flailing a bit. 

"No, I mean, with the whole nap thing. Not in the same bed. I can just nap on the couch or something. I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. Are you okay?"

"It's fine," Derek managed to say after he'd taken a gulp from his glass of water. "I was just surprised." He looked down at his plate. "It's your bed so it's fine if you take a nap there too. We've shared the bed before. It's fine."

Sure, they'd shared the bed while watching movies, but they hadn't intentionally slept in the same bed before. Stiles had a feeling that it would only lead to intense embarrassment on his part. He would probably cling to Derek in his sleep and drool all over him. To make matters even worse his libido would probably choose that moment to fully return. He'd have a wet dream and then wake up with his erection pressed against Derek and then promptly die of mortification. He was almost completely sure of it. 

"Yeah, okay, cool," Stiles said, nodding and then felt like the wanted to hit himself with a frying pan. 

This would lead to a total disaster, but he just couldn't pass on an opportunity to sleep in the same bed as Derek. Who in their right mind would? Probably a lot of people actually, now that he thought about it. At least he hoped that his dad would pass on an opportunity to sleep in the same bed as Derek. The mental imagery that gave him made him shudder and he sort of lost his appetite. He forced himself to eat the rest of the food on his plate anyway so it wouldn't go to waste. 

Derek ate much slower than Stiles. Probably because he had actual table manners and didn't talk with his mouth full. Also because he ate quite a lot more than what Stiles did. Stiles couldn't sit still long enough to wait for Derek to finish eating. Instead he stood up and realized that he'd flung food over practically half the kitchen. He grabbed a rag and started cleaning up. Once he was done he started washing the dishes so he'd have them done. 

"I'll help you," Derek said when he'd finished eating. 

Stiles was about to protest and tell Derek to go back to bed, but then he thought that it'd be too awkward to crawl into bed when Derek was already asleep. So he nodded and moved a little bit to the side so Derek had room to stand beside him. He continued washing the dishes and Derek dried them and set them back into the cabinets. It was almost painfully domestic and it made Stiles' chest feel a bit tight, as if someone was squeezing him too hard while his insides felt too full to handle. The feeling was strange to say the least and he didn't even know why he reacted that way.

"I'm going to be pretty busy next week," Derek said in lieu of nothing just as they were finishing up. 

"Okay," Stiles said slowly, wiping his hands on a towel. "With what?"

"Stuff," Derek said informatively. "I might not be able to text you as much. And I won't be able to see you in person. Things will go back to normal after next week, though. I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't worry." He looked faintly embarrassed.

"Oh, well, thank you," Stiles said, feeling a bit touched. "That's good to know." He paused and wrung his hands before he continued, "I would have, you know. Worried about you, I mean." 

He ran his hand over his buzz cut and quickly turned around, heading out of the kitchen. Why had he said that? It made him sound like an overly clingy and worried boyfriend or something. For a moment it had just seemed like Derek was embarrassed because he thought that it was silly to think that Stiles would worry. Of course that wasn't the case because they were friends. Once someone had wormed their way under Stiles' skin he worried about them excessively. Even if he hadn't had a crush on Derek he would've worried. 

Derek followed close behind him as he walked up the stairs and to his room. When they'd walked inside, Stiles closed the door behind them and stared at his bed. The bed he would soon nap in together with Derek. His bed wasn't even that big so they would be touching whether they tried to or not, though it wasn't like he thought that Derek would actually try to touch him. 

"I can go sleep on the couch instead if this makes you uncomfortable," Derek said and Stiles quickly shook his head. 

"No, no, you lie down first," Stiles said. "I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." 

He opened the door again and practically rushed to the bathroom. His heart was beating fast. He tried to tell himself that it was no different than the times he'd accidentally fallen asleep together with Scott. They'd woken up tangled together and grimaced at each other. Then Stiles cracked a joke about how Scott owed him a date and everything had gone back to normal. Somehow he didn't think it'd go over the same way if he made that same joke to Derek. 

Once he'd done his business and actually managed to calm himself down a bit, he returned to his bedroom. Derek was stretched out on the bed, hands resting on his stomach. He was taking deep, calm breaths and he looked at Stiles through half lidded eyes. Stiles felt sort of like he'd been punched right in the stomach and all of his breath left him in a loud puff of air. 

"You okay?" Derek asked quietly, his voice deeper than normal. 

Stiles thought that life was seriously trying to mess with him right now but he smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay." He walked over to the bed and poked Derek's arm. "Budge over a little bit. You're too big."

Derek snorted and if Stiles was surprised, it was still nothing close to how surprised Derek looked about the fact that that had just happened. A grin slowly spread on Stiles face and he kneeled on the bed next to Derek. 

"You totally just laughed," Stiles said. "You laughed because of your mind being in the gutter. This is huge."

Derek looked like he was desperately trying to keep himself from laughing or even smiling. He bit his lip and took a deep breath, his features becoming more relaxed again. Then he turned over on his side and made more space so Stiles could lie down comfortably next to him. 

"I think your terrible sense of humor is rubbing off on me," Derek said and his face was completely straight but Stiles knew that he had to have said it on purpose. 

"I think it was just hiding inside of you all along," Stiles said, laughing quietly.

Weirdly enough, making innuendos and sex jokes totally took the tension away from the situation. If they could joke about it, it really couldn't be that bad. It made them seem more like best friends just joking around, rather than two people who were attracted to each other. At least it did to Stiles and he stretched out on the bed and relaxed. 

"Lift your head," Derek said and Stiles looked at him with a confused expression.

"Huh? Why?" Stiles still lifted his head, though, and let out a breath with a faint 'whoosh' when Derek stretched out his arm across the pillow. 

"Lie back down now."

Stiles licked his lips and rested his head against Derek's arm which was actually kind of cushiony when it was relaxed. It was nice but it also made Stiles want to curl up on his side and press close to Derek. He glanced at Derek and saw that he was watching him with a kind of strange expression. For once Stiles couldn't even hope to read it correctly, and he tried really hard not to make any assumptions. 

"Are you comfortable?" Derek asked. 

"Yeah, this is perfect, I'm perfectly comfortable, thanks," Stiles said. 

"Are you sure?" Derek raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

"Actually. Can I?" Stiles gestured vaguely at Derek as if that made any sort of sense to anyone who wasn't him. It didn't even make much sense to himself so he had no real hope that Derek would understand what he meant. 

"Yeah, you can."

So it seemed that Derek got the gist of it or was just pretending to. Either way, Stiles took a deep breath and hoped that he wouldn't be pushed away for this. Derek had held him close in bed before, but that was when Stiles had been upset and crying and almost panicking. There was no need to go along with it to comfort him now. It wasn't about comfort. Well, actually in a way it was but it wasn't really the same. Stiles wished that he could just make his brain shut up.

He turned on his side, facing Derek, and sort of burrowed his face in against Derek's chest. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles' shoulders and draped the other over Stiles' waist. Stiles felt completely enveloped and warm and it was really nice. He sighed softly and curled his fingers into the fabric of Derek's shirt. 

"This is really nice," he mumbled.

"Yeah, it is," Derek said quietly. "Sleep, Stiles."

"Okay."

Stiles couldn't remember falling asleep or even being all that tired, but he must have because when he jerked awake the room was dark. He was on his back, his arm hanging off of the bed in an uncomfortable way, and Derek was on his side with his back facing Stiles. None of these things explained why Stiles had woken up, so he lifted his head and then had to bite his lip to keep back a yelp. He flailed and managed to fall off the bed in an ungraceful heap. Sitting up, he glanced at Derek who was seemingly still sleeping deeply. 

"This isn't what it looks like," Stiles said in a too loud whisper to his dad who stood in the doorway, looking at him with a stern but faintly amused expression. 

"So you didn't both decide to take a nap and then ended up sleeping for longer than you intended?" Sheriff Stilinski asked. "Because that's what it looks like to me."

Stiles blinked and stopped himself from beginning the long explanation he'd been about to give. "Oh. Then it's exactly what it looks like." 

He got to his feet and winced at the kind of numb feeling in his legs from sleeping in jeans for so long. Making sure that he was walking as silently as possible not to wake Derek up, though he probably wouldn't wake up when not even the thud of Stiles landing on the floor could make him do so, Stiles shooed his dad out of the room and followed him. Once he'd closed his door, he turned to face the sheriff. 

"Please don't wake him up and please let him stay," Stiles said before his dad could say anything. 

Sheriff Stilinski sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stiles, I know he's a good friend to you but he's still twenty-two years old and it's not exactly appropriate."

"But we aren't doing anything other than sleeping," Stiles said in a louder voice than he'd intended to and forced himself to assume a more hushed tone. "Dad, when he came here he looked like he hadn't been sleeping properly for days. I mean, he's probably having trouble sleeping just like me. Because of nightmares." He tried to appeal to the sheriff's fatherly side. 

"It's a school night, Stiles." 

"Yeah, but I've been able to sleep like a baby for the past three hours or so. That means I'll probably be sleeping well again once I've gotten ready for bed and gone back there."

"So you're not taking the couch?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I could swear that that's where you were going with this."

Stiles blushed and rubbed his hand over his head. "Come on, dad. I'll be wearing my pajamas and Derek will stay above the covers and it's not like I haven't slept in the same bed as S-Scott plenty of times. This is just like those times."

The sheriff didn't look convinced but finally he sighed and nodded. "Fine, go get ready for bed. Tell me that you at least ate dinner before taking your marathon nap."

"Yeah, there are leftovers in the fridge for you," Stiles said and then gave his dad a grateful smile. "Thanks, dad."

"Yeah, yeah, just make sure you wake up in time for school tomorrow," Sheriff Stilinski said and patted Stiles' shoulder as he walked past him to head downstairs. "Goodnight, kiddo."

"Goodnight, dad."

Stiles went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and frown at the pillow creases on his cheek. He was pretty sure there were some traces of dried drool around his mouth as well. Great, that was attractive. At least he hadn't woken up with a boner. That would have made everything so much more awkward and he would've never been able to look his dad in the eyes again. Not that there hadn't been some awkward moments before, but none of them had occurred with an older guy being in his bed. 

He finished his bedtime ritual in the bathroom and then walked back to his bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he padded over to his dresser to get his pajamas. They were shoved in the bottom of a drawer since he usually just slept in his boxers and a t-shirt. He didn't think that his dad would approve of that, not with Derek in his bed. When he'd found the pajama bottoms and yanked them out of the drawer, he turned around and had to once again keep himself from yelping. 

"Oh my god, Derek, how long have you been awake?" Stiles asked, flailing wildly with his arms. 

"Since your dad came home," Derek replied with some amusement. "I thought that it would be safer for me to pretend to be asleep."

"Good call." 

Stiles took a few deep breaths to calm down and then walked over to his desk chair. He draped the pajama bottoms over the back of the chair and squirmed out of his over shirt. Then he wriggled out of his jeans to put on the pajama bottoms instead. When he turned around he realized that Derek was still sitting up and watching him and he blushed. 

"Hey, it's rude to stare," he said and acted affronted though really he was mostly embarrassed about Derek probably seeing his Batman boxers. 

"Sorry," Derek said, quickly looking away though it was too late now. "I should probably go."

"No way, dude. You have my dad's permission to stay for the night and I'm not letting you go back to the preserve to sleep there. Not when you can share a nice, comfy bed with me. You should probably wear a bit less, though. Wait, that came out wrong. I just meant that it's uncomfortable to sleep in jeans and I have sweatpants that might fit you. Because sleeping in jeans really sucks. Yeah, I'll shut up now."

"Okay."

"Okay? Okay. I'll just look through my stuff for something that might fit you."

"If you don't mind I could just skip the jeans and not wear more," Derek said and Stiles' eyes widened. "I think you've noticed by now that I'm warmer than the average person. Wearing too much while I sleep, while doable, keeps me from resting easy."

Stiles did one of his quite accurate impersonations of a goldfish again for a moment before he nodded. "Yeah, okay, that's fine by me. I guess you'll have to hide your jeans under the bed, though." Derek raised an eyebrow at him so he had to explain, "In case dad comes to check on us again there can't be any evidence that you're not wearing pants. Also you'll be under the covers like I told him you wouldn't be but it should be fine."

"I don't think he'll come to check on us again," Derek said and got up from the bed. 

He unbuttoned his jeans and before Stiles could look away, he was already pushing his jeans off and kicked his socks off while he was at it. Stiles thought that he probably shouldn't stare, but Derek had done the same to him so this was just payback. Derek bent down to grab his jeans from the floor and Stiles' jaw dropped again as he saw Derek's ass because wow, that was a really nice ass. His own ass definitely felt inadequate in comparison and he really hoped that Derek hadn't been staring at it. 

Derek took care with folding his jeans and walked over to the dresser to put them in a drawer. That was probably a better idea than keeping them on the dusty floor underneath Stiles' bed actually. Stiles quickly got into bed so Derek wouldn't think that he'd just stood frozen in the same spot and stared at his ass the entire time. Though that was kind of true. Sonnets should be written about Derek's ass. 

As Derek turned back around to get into bed, Stiles quickly acted like he'd been staring at the ceiling since he got into bed. It really wasn't an interesting ceiling but Derek couldn't possibly know that. He hadn't spent sixteen years getting acquainted with every little spot on it. Not that Stiles could actually see the spots while it was so dark. 

Derek slipped in under the covers and nudged Stiles' shoulder. "Turn on your side."

Stiles was really too surprised to protest or ask why. Instead he simply turned to his side and felt Derek press up against his back. He made a startled noise and then Derek's arm wrapped around his waist and held him in place. Stiles was being spooned by Derek Hale. This was definitely not normal friend behavior. He was about to point that out when he thought better of it and closed his mouth. This was more than he could've ever asked for. It hurt a bit knowing that this was probably as much as he'd ever get, but it was mostly overweighed by how awesome it was. 

"Is this okay?" Derek asked quietly and Stiles could feel his breath tickle his neck. 

"Yeah, it's okay," Stiles said and placed his hand on top of Derek's. 

He could barely believe that only a few days ago he'd freaked out about possibly holding Derek's hand at the movies, and now he was being spooned by him in his bed. Things seemed to happen so fast these days, things that Stiles could never have imagined before the new school year began. 

Most things that had happened seemed really terribly bad, but then when he really thought about it there had actually been more good things than bad things. It was just that the bad that had happened were the kind of stuff Stiles would never be able to get over. 

"What are you thinking about?" Derek asked. 

"Scott," Stiles said with a sad sigh. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, let's just sleep. Unless there's something you want to talk about because I can totally listen. Most people think that I'm physically incapable of shutting up, but I swear that I'm actually a good listener once someone really wants to talk to me. Not that I'm proving my point by rambling on like this. Sorry."

"It's okay," Derek said and huffed. "Let's sleep. Goodnight, Stiles."

"Night, Derek."

Stiles thought that it would be much harder to fall asleep with someone hot like Derek spooning him, but once again it was really easy. He felt and heard Derek's deep breaths and his presence was calm and reassuring somehow. Soon he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***

When Stiles had woken up on Wednesday morning, Derek had already been gone. Stiles had gone down to the kitchen only to find the sheriff there, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper. Sheriff Stilinski had said that Derek had excused himself a bit earlier, saying that he had something to do. Stiles had been a bit disappointed but he figured that it was a pretty good thing that Derek had already left. At least it meant that he wouldn't get distracted from getting ready to go to school.

At school he'd passed by the leather trio in the hallway. The three of them wore practically identical smirks, and it was almost as if they knew that Derek had slept in the same bed as him. There was no way they could know, though, because he was pretty sure that Derek hadn't told them. 

Unless he'd completely misjudged Derek's character, and he actually talked about a lot of things when he was with someone other than Stiles. That didn't seem likely, though. Stiles absolutely didn't use Allison as a human shield to get away from Isaac, Erica and Boyd's smirks. Then he absolutely hadn't continued to use her for that same purpose the rest of the school day. None of the others had seemed to notice the leather trio's weirder than usual behavior, fortunately, so Stiles didn't have to try to explain it. Not that he would even have been able to if he tried. 

Otherwise the day had passed by pretty normally. Derek sent him a few texts. Okay, maybe Derek had sent him quite a lot of texts, since Stiles had kept replying to them with questions and stuff that kind of required a reply if Derek didn't want to be rude. On Thursday, Derek came around for a bit in the afternoon and they hung out, doing nothing in particular other than talking. Derek left when Sheriff Stilinski came home from work. 

Now it was Friday and Stiles noticed that Allison was acting even stranger than she had lately. She was clearly worried about something and she kept glancing at him during classes. At breaks she barely listened to what Lydia said to her which made Lydia annoyed. That in turn made Jackson annoyed, and when Jackson was annoyed he took it out by being more of a douche than usual towards Stiles. Danny was there to diffuse the tension a bit, thankfully, because Stiles didn't help with his sarcastic jabs back. He did it to distract the others from Allison's quite obvious distress, though. Well, mostly, he also just really liked being able to piss Jackson off. 

It wasn't until after they'd finished eating lunch that Allison grabbed Stiles' arm and dragged him off to a secluded area of a corridor. She really had surprising strength for someone so slim, and Stiles had to suppress a wince at the way her fingers dug into his arm. However, Allison seemed to notice anyway and she let go of him with an apologetic smile. 

"What's up?" Stiles asked, trying to act casual even though he was frankly kind of unnerved by her behavior. 

"There's something I really want to talk to you about," Allison said, looking at him with a mix of apprehension and earnestness. 

"Uh, okay, go ahead." Stiles really hoped that she wouldn't do something like confess feelings for him or anything. Not that it was very likely since she'd made it clear in the past that her feelings for him were strictly platonic, but things could change. It really would be best for them both if things hadn't. 

"I don't want to talk about it here," Allison said, fiddling with the pendant that she always wore. "Could you come by to my place after school?" Stiles hesitated and she somehow knew why because she added, "My parents won't be at home. Kate won't either. Please, Stiles, I don't know who else to talk to."

"What about Lydia? She's probably better to talk to than me. She could give advice how to be a terrifying, popular goddess and I'm the awkward kid who messes shit up every time I even open my mouth."

Allison wrinkled her nose and gave him a small smile. "That's not true," she said comfortingly before she continued, "This isn't something I can talk to Lydia about. I just think that you'd be the only one to take me remotely seriously once you've heard what I've got to say."

"Okay, yeah, sure," Stiles said. "I don't have anything else planned today so I can go to your place after school. Promise that your parents won't be there. They scare me."

Allison laughed as if he was joking. "I promise that we'll be completely alone. It probably won't take long either so you'll be at your place long before they come home."

"I'll take your word for it."

Next period would start soon and they managed to find Lydia, Jackson and Danny before then. Lydia looked at them with a considering expression, as if she, too, was having thoughts about Allison possibly having fallen in love with Stiles. That thought really was ridiculous, though, and Lydia looked as if she agreed with Stiles on that. Not a word about it was said out loud but Stiles could swear that he and Lydia had reached a silent agreement before the bell rang. There was something else going on with Allison and before the day was over, Stiles would know what it was. 

Allison had driven to school that day, so Stiles trailed behind her car with his jeep on the way to her house. Needless to say, he'd been kind of obsessing over what kind of thing she'd want to talk to him about instead of to Lydia. She'd said that she thought that he'd be the only one to take her seriously. Since when did Stiles ever take anyone seriously? He was all about sarcastic remarks and rolling his eyes. 

He supposed that he hadn't been like that with Allison most of the time, not even when she joined in with the others teasing him. It felt a bit too much like kicking a defenseless puppy. Or he was just reminded of Scott because of her warm, brown eyes and it made him feel guilty. Not that he hadn't been mean and sarcastic to Scott as well, but everything was different now. 

They arrived at Allison's house and Stiles hopped out of his jeep, following Allison to the front door. As promised, her parents and Kate weren't at home. He let out a silent sigh of relief at that. There was not even a tiny part of him that ever wished to bump into Mr. Argent or Kate ever again. It was kind of inevitable, though, he supposed, with Allison being his friend and all. Hopefully it'd take a long time until he had to see them again. 

Allison led Stiles to her room and showed him inside. It was a nice room, he thought. Very neat, except for a few boxes filled with stuff, as if she hadn't unpacked them yet. Allison followed his line of sight and smiled kind of sheepishly. 

"I'm not used to staying in one place for long, so I always take my time with unpacking," she said. "It seems like we'll stay in Beacon Hills for longer than we've stayed anywhere else, though."

"That's good," Stiles said, not quite able to muster up the level of enthusiasm that was probably required for the situation. 

Allison didn't seem to mind, though, and only smiled at him. "Please, sit down."

Stiles sat down awkwardly on the edge of Allison's bed. He almost slid right off, but he planted his feet on the floor and scooted up a bit further on the bed with ungraceful flailing of his limbs. Allison sat down next to him and folded her hands in her lap. She bit her lip and they sat there in awkward silence for a moment. Stiles wasn't sure if he was supposed to somehow prod her to start talking, but thankfully she took the decision away from him by taking a deep breath and beginning to speak. 

"I don't really know where to start. You're going to think I'm completely nuts once I'm done."

"Trust me, Allison, compared to me no one is nuts," Stiles said and she gave him an amused and grateful smile. 

"It's just that ever since we moved to Beacon Hills my parents have been acting really weird. I mean, my family has always been a bit strange. We move around a lot and my dad sells firearms to the law enforcement, so we've got a garage full of weapons." 

That was new information to Stiles, and it didn't help with making Mr. Argent any less freaky. 

"They encouraged me to do archery and gymnastics when I was younger. I was actually really good at archery but I didn't feel like doing it anymore. I just want to be normal instead of the freak archer who's been held back a year in school, you know?"

"Yeah, I can imagine," Stiles said weakly. 

Archery, seriously? Her dad had been traipsing around in the woods with a crossbow, and apparently even Allison had been running around with a bow and arrows. Probably not in forests, though, but the location didn't really seem to matter right now. What was up with the Argents and a penchant for weapons? Not that Stiles had much right to say anything with being a Sheriff's son and having been taught to handle a gun, but that was different. 

"Dad's business associates have always been coming and going in our house too, but I'm not allowed to talk to them at all," Allison continued, frowning. "That's the way it's always been, though, so I haven't thought much about it. It's just that ever since we got here to Beacon Hills, and especially after Kate arrived, things have been so strange."

"Strange how?" Stiles asked. 

"You know how Kate gave me this pendant and said that I have to find the meaning of it for myself?" Allison asked, touching the pendant that as always hung around her neck in a silver chain. Stiles nodded and she continued, "Then the whole thing I found about my ancestor killing that thing that looked like a werewolf? Well, it seems to me that..." She paused and bit her lip, looking incredibly troubled. 

"Seems to you that...?" Stiles prodded her, feeling an equal amount of anticipation and trepidation for what she was about to say. 

"It seems to me that my family actually thinks that that stuff is real," she said at last, sounding incredulous and a bit torn, as if she wasn't sure that telling Stiles this was a good idea. 

"What makes you think that?" Stiles' voice almost cracked. His heart was beating fast in his chest and he leaned towards her in his excitement to find out more. 

"Because Kate keeps giving me these clues. With the necklace and what I found in that book. At first I thought that it was just her, but I couldn't sleep one night so I went to the kitchen to get some water. I heard dad's car outside so I went to the garage to say hello. But he was talking to Kate so I was curious and I hid and I heard them saying weird stuff about hunting and some kind of code. Dad seemed kind of angry but Kate just laughed at him. Then when they were gone, I stopped hiding and I found a weird arrowhead on the workbench. I took it and the next day I went to the woods and tried firing it at a tree."

"What happened?" 

"It exploded with a bright light," Allison said, biting her nail. "That is definitely not the standard for arrowheads, and I don't understand what the purpose of it would even be. You're not allowed to hunt with that kind of thing as far as I know."

"That does sound really strange," Stiles said with a frown. "Are those the only reasons you think that your dad and aunt believe that werewolves are real, though? Because they could just be really gung-ho about family legends and hunting with not strictly legal methods."

"I did think that it had to be something like that, or that they were into something really nerdy like live action roleplay and are too embarrassed to tell anyone."

"I'd do live action roleplaying if I had the chance to."

Allison blinked and looked at Stiles blankly. "Oh. Great." There was an awkward pause in which Stiles felt really judged for his life choices as a nerd. "Anyway, what really made me decide that I have to talk to someone so I won't go insane happened a couple of days ago." She stopped and looked as if she was hesitating about whether to say more. 

"You can tell me anything," Stiles said seriously. "I won't tell anyone else. I promise."

"Okay, thanks. I was out for a jog. Usually I just go to the park or something but this time I decided that I wanted to do something different. So I jogged out in the woods. I thought that there shouldn't be a problem because there haven't been anymore animal attacks." Allison realized who she was talking to and looked kind of ashamed. 

"It's okay, go on." Stiles smiled reassuringly at her. 

"Dad hasn't said anything more about it either, though he warned me about the preserve after... everything that happened. So I was out in the woods and I came across this ruin of what looked like it had been a really big house."

Stiles had to bite the inside of his cheek not to blurt out that he knew all about that ruin. At least Derek hadn't been there since he came to Stiles' house last Tuesday, or that's what Stiles thought. Maybe he'd gone back there to get his stuff if he'd left any there, but if Allison had bumped into Derek there she would probably have said so right away. 

"At first I wondered why it hadn't been torn down, but then I remembered what you guys said during lunch break that time," Allison said. "That was where your friend's family lived, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was," Stiles said, nodding, since there was no reason to lie when she'd already figured it out. Why would he need to lie about it anyway? It wasn't as if it was some big secret. Pretty much everyone in Beacon Hills knew who'd lived there and what had happened. For some reason he just hadn't wanted to say anything about it unless Allison already knew. 

"I was really curious so I decided to go inside," Allison said, once again looking ashamed of herself and Stiles thought that she should be. He'd been at the ruin but he'd never gone inside. "I walked through the hallway and to a room that looked like it had been a living room or a sitting room or something. There were weird marks on the floor. I thought that maybe they were scrape marks from furniture or something, but when I crouched down they looked exactly like scratch marks." 

"You mean like from some kind of animal?" Stiles asked.

"Yes, but they were too far apart to come from any kind of animal I know. I compared them with my fingers and it looked kind of like they'd been made by a human with large hands, but the gouges in the floor were too deep to ever have been done with human nails."

"So you're saying that... they could be scratch marks from a werewolf?" Stiles tried really hard not to show his excitement. It was possible that his insane theories might not have been so insane after all. If two adults, albeit very creepy ones, seemed to think that werewolves existed and even Allison had come to the same conclusion, didn't that mean that it had to be true? It really made far too much sense for something that wasn't supposed to make sense at all.

"No," Allison said, wrinkling her forehead. "I don't know. Maybe? But I haven't reached the end of my story."

"Really?" There was even more than what Allison had already told him? Stiles had to sit on his hands in hopes of sitting even remotely still and wait for her to continue.

"When I looked up from the claw marks, Kate was watching me from the door opening. I didn't hear her come in so she really startled me. I may have screamed." Allison looked a bit sheepish. "I asked her what she was doing there and she said that she was worried about me. That she wanted to make sure that nothing bad happened to me. She also started going on about how if I wanted to go jogging in the woods I should start learning to defend myself. Obviously I asked her from what because the only danger around here seems to be wild animals and she just kind of laughed. It was kind of creepy actually."

"Is that all?" Stiles asked after Allison had been silent for longer than a few seconds.

Allison was biting her nails and looked even more worried than she had earlier. "No. I asked her if she knew what had happened to the house because I think she lived in Beacon Hills around that time. I was saying how horrible it was and she just smiled at me, saying that sometimes things happen for a reason. That maybe I wouldn't think it was so horrible if I knew the reason behind it."

Stiles sucked in a breath and he looked at Allison with wide eyes. Because really she was just confirming the crazy theories he'd used as a distraction from everything else. If Kate believed that what had happened to the Hales was somehow justified, did that mean that she thought that they were werewolves? 

It didn't even have to be true as long as Kate believed it enough. Maybe the Argents were just nuts, or at least Kate was, and maybe she was the one behind the fire. Why else would she be saying such creepy things? That was a very serious thing to accuse someone of, though, and perhaps Stiles was reading too much into it. Kate could have just said those things because she was upset about Derek breaking up with her or something. She could just be a bitter woman with tendencies to be creepy and have vindictive feelings. That didn't mean that she burned down a house with almost an entire family inside. 

"You must think I'm completely crazy," Allison said with a mirthless laugh. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you this. It's probably nothing, right? Maybe it was just one of those religious things. Kate has never seemed like she believes in a higher power, but some people like that say that everything happens for a reason, right? So it could just be something like that. And she wants me to be able to defend myself because I'm a girl and you hear about men attacking girls everywhere, you know?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, it could absolutely be something like that," he said, even though he wasn't convinced that that was the case. "All of these weird things could just be coincidences. There doesn't have to be some kind of a pattern. The scratch marks could just be from a really big mountain lion or something. It's probably nothing."

"Stiles, you don't look like you think that it's nothing. Don't say things you don't mean just to be nice or to protect me."

"I just don't want to say anything bad about your family," Stiles said, smiling apologetically at Allison. "I don't think that you're crazy, but I think that Kate might be just a little bit. I know that you love her and that she's like a sister to you, but honestly she freaks me out. I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay." Allison frowned and folded her hands in her lap again, looking down at them. "You can't help the way you feel. Honestly, she kind of scares me now. I still love her but she's just... different from what she used to be like. She keeps smiling at me like she has a secret that she wants me to figure out. And with the things she said at the ruin. I really can't believe in werewolves but it seems more and more to me like Kate does. I'm worried about her but I can't tell my dad because he seems to know what's going on and he won't tell me anything. What if she's sick?"

A plan was forming in Stiles' brain. It was a really bad plan and it was probably going to fail spectacularly and end in him getting injured, but he was probably going to go through with it anyway. He was known for doing incredibly foolish things on occasion after all, and in a way he kind of owed it to Scott. 

"Allison, I think it's probably best if you just leave it for now," Stiles said. "Just maybe stay away from the woods, and don't spend time alone with Kate in places where you can't get help quickly, okay?"

"Okay," Allison said hesitantly. "If she's ill she needs help, though, so isn't it my responsibility to tell someone?"

"It seems like your dad already knows. You trust him, right?" Stiles asked and Allison nodded. "Then trust him to do what's best for your aunt. If the situation gets any worse, then you can talk to him but for now just let things run their course."

Allison nodded again and gave Stiles a small smile. "Thank you, Stiles. I really didn't know what to do. I wondered if I was going crazy or if my entire family was. I feel a bit better now. I still wonder what could leave behind claw marks that deep and far apart, though."

"Maybe it was just some bored kid with a knife, wanting to play a prank on people who enter the creepy ruin."

"Yeah, that could be it. That's probably it actually. Thank you." 

Allison surprised Stiles by angling her body towards him and pulling him into a slightly awkward hug. Stiles froze for a moment and then lifted his hand to pat her back. It was the first time he'd been hugged by a girl since... probably since before his mom died actually. 

"No problem," Stiles said, his voice sounding kind of squeaky. "If you feel alright with being alone, I should probably go home now. My dad worked the early shift so I want to get dinner ready before he comes home."

Allison pulled back from the hug and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, yes, of course," she said with a kind of shy smile. "I'm sorry for keeping you with such silly things."

"Hey, no, it's not silly at all. You're worried about your aunt and you didn't know what to think. We're friends so of course I'll always help you if I can. It's really not a problem."

"Thank you, Stiles. You're really sweet."

Stiles kind of felt like bursting into laughter at that but he managed to keep it in. If only she knew the kind of things that went on in his mind, she would never call him sweet again. Actually he was a manipulative little shit. At least that's how he would describe himself. Well, before his best friend died he would've probably described himself as awesome and underrated. Sometimes he still did, but he had a bit more of a tendency to feel bad about it these days. 

Allison followed him to the front door and smiled sweetly at him. "Thanks for coming. I'll see you on Monday at school?"

"Yeah, totally, we'll see each other then," Stiles said a bit lamely and her smile widened. "If you need to talk about something or if you feel scared, you can always text me and I'll do whatever I can to help."

"Thank you. Bye, Stiles."

"Bye, Allison." Stiles gave her a jaunty wave and then promptly wanted to hit himself. 

Instead he turned around and headed to his jeep. As he drove home he took time to think about his plan. There wasn't that much to think about, though, since his plan wasn't actually a real plan. It mostly consisted of going into the woods at nighttime to see what would happen. Specifically the night of the full moon, that coincidentally would occur next week on Saturday. 

If there was a werewolf in Beacon Hills, Derek or someone else, they would probably be in the preserve during the full moon. It wasn't a sure thing; Scott hadn't died during a full moon which meant that if there were werewolves, they could be all wolf-y even without the full moon. Stiles was just guessing that there had to be a particular urge for them to turn during the full moon, though, because with so many myths saying the same thing there had to be some truth to it. 

Basically he would wander out into the woods during the full moon, hoping to run into a werewolf. Possibly Kate Argent too if she was out hunting for them, either because they were real or because she was insane. Nothing could go wrong with this plan, except Stiles could quite possibly get killed. He figured that if the same werewolf that had killed Scott was still out there, waiting and lying low, it was Stiles' responsibility to kill that son of a bitch or die trying. 

Until then all he could do was wait, and perhaps find a surefire way of killing a werewolf that didn't include guns and silver bullets. Yeah, if werewolves were real he was definitely going to die. At least he would die knowing that he'd done everything in his power to avenge his best friend's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always you can also find me on [tumblr](http://lycanvirgin.tumblr.com).


	8. Part Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this part: Kate being her usual self. Mentions of her messed up past relationship with Derek. Canon-typical violence and injury.
> 
> This is the shortest chapter but it contains the most actual plot and action. Isn't it funny how that works out?

The week leading up to the full moon, Stiles was kind of a mess. Time seemed to move too slow and too fast at the same time. On one hand he just wanted to get it over with, and on the other hand he was terrified. If werewolves really were real, it meant that all kinds of other creatures could be real too, and Stiles would probably be screwed because he had the worst luck. 

Or even if they were real, it didn't have to mean that he would find one just because he wandered into the woods on a full moon night. It could be entirely anticlimactic and he'd go home with nothing to show for his efforts. And if they weren't real then... well, he'd feel monumentally stupid and go back to being depressed about how terrible things happened though life was ordinary. 

He still had to hold onto the hope that Scott's death had some kind of meaning, though that didn't make it any less terrible or sad. Stiles supposed that somehow in his warped mind, dying from being attacked by a werewolf was a hero's death. 

Scott deserved a hero's death because he'd always been a hero to Stiles. Someone so caring and who always put up with Stiles and his stupid ideas. The only one who stuck by Stiles' side when everyone else got tired of him after a few months. Not to mention all of his other awesome qualities as a friend and as a person. There just had to be something more to it than a random animal attack combined with an asthma attack and a lost inhaler. 

At least when Stiles' mom died there was an illness that was a certain death sentence involved. It was still stupid and pointless and people shouldn't have to suffer like that, but it wasn't as random. And, even though it felt like it sometimes, it hadn't been Stiles' fault. 

The weekend hadn't been so bad. Sheriff Stilinski had worked the early shift so they spent the evenings together. They'd eaten good but healthy food and watched television together. The sheriff had complained about Stiles' phone buzzing with an incoming text message every few minutes, and "shouldn't you pay attention to the TV when you wanted us to watch it together?", but Stiles could see his smile in the corner of his eye as he wrote another reply to Derek. 

Derek had probably wanted to text Stiles as much as he could before the week of practically no interaction. Come to think of it, if Derek was a werewolf he might use the week to prepare himself for the full moon or something. Anyway, it was awesome that he texted Stiles that much. It made Stiles' stomach be filled with very cliché butterflies, and he really felt like a lovesick teenager. Which he was, but that was beside the point. He was turning into one of those people he'd scoffed at, the kind that grinned at their phones like idiots. 

So all in all he'd been pretty okay during the weekend with the solid presence of his dad beside him, and the distraction of Derek's texts. It was when Monday rolled around that he really turned into a jittery mess. The almost constant presence of Allison during the school day didn't help. It served as a reminder of her crazy aunt and what he was going to do the coming Saturday. 

Perhaps Kate would be out on the preserve as well. The thought of bumping into her was kind of more terrifying than the thought of coming across werewolves. He'd really only met her that one time, but the way she looked at teenage boys made his skin crawl. Also, Derek really hated her and that made Stiles hate her too. He really wasn't mature enough to give her the benefit of a doubt. 

Around the middle of the week, everyone had definitely noticed Stiles' restless and kind of erratic behavior and was getting sick of it. Especially Mr. Harris who gave him detention for breathing too loud. Well actually, Stiles might have snarked back at Mr. Harris when he reprimanded him for not sitting still and making too much noise. Whatever, moving around in his seat and making noise was practically the same as breathing for him.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Stilinski?" Jackson asked when they were seated in the cafeteria to eat lunch. "What's crawled up your ass?"

"I don't know. You tell me, Jackson; did you see anything there last time you stared at it?" Stiles said testily and poked at his food. 

"Wow, someone's in a catty mood," Lydia said, raising one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. 

Jackson looked almost scandalized and he obviously couldn't come up with a good enough comeback to say anything. Stiles would be quite proud if he wasn't so anxious about Saturday. Well, honestly he was still quite proud.

"You've been acting strange all week," Allison said, looking worried. 

"Did your boyfriend dump you or something?" Jackson asked, regaining his usual smugness. 

"He's not my boyfriend," Stiles said. "And he didn't dump me. He's just busy this week." He didn't even care if it sounded like he had a crush on Derek, because it was true and it was also a better excuse than saying he was going to look for werewolves the coming full moon. 

"Come to think of it, you haven't gotten any texts during lunch this week," Danny said. 

"So that's why you've been so restless," Allison said, looking relieved. She'd probably been a bit worried about it having to do with what she'd told him, and was glad to know that it didn't; she really had no clue. "What's he busy with?"

"I don't know. I guess he's looking for a more permanent place to stay and stuff." Stiles shrugged and poked around more in his food, actually taking a bite of it though it tasted pretty bad. 

"You sure he's not just sick of you, Stilinski?" Jackson asked. 

"Derek could never get sick of Stiles."

Stiles almost fell out of his seat at the surprise comment coming from right behind him. Judging from the others' expressions, they hadn't noticed Erica coming up to their table either. Stiles turned around to see that Isaac and a reluctant looking Boyd were with her as well. How could two tall guys and a drop dead gorgeous girl move so silently and unnoticed? It was something of a mystery. 

"Excuse me," Erica said and squeezed in between Stiles and Allison - who moved away a bit, looking uncomfortable. 

"Erica, can't we just leave?" Isaac asked, sighing. 

"You can leave if you want to; I want to talk to Stiles." Erica gave Stiles a wicked smile that honestly kind of scared him. 

"Who said that you could sit with us?" Lydia asked, narrowing her eyes at Erica. "We were in the middle of a conversation."

"A conversation about Derek who I happen to know," Erica said, unaffected by Lydia's glare. 

"Derek is not going to be happy about this," Isaac muttered and Boyd nodded. They seemed to think that it would be impossible to get Erica to leave with them, though, so instead they squeezed in at the table, possibly to do damage control. 

"Since when did our table become open to freaks?" Jackson asked, looking annoyed.

"Just leave it, Jackson," Danny said, glancing at Boyd who sat beside him. "It's just this once."

"It better be," Jackson muttered and scowled down at his lunch tray as if it had personally offended him. Stiles kind of knew how he felt; today's lunch really was quite disgusting. 

"How do you know Derek?" Allison asked Erica.

"Isaac introduced us. Anyway, I know for sure that Derek isn't sick of Stiles at all. Every time he gets a message from Stiles, his expression goes from the usual doom and gloom to something else. I would call it a smile but Derek never smiles."

"He sounds like a real charmer," Jackson said sarcastically. 

"Yeah, kind of like you then," Isaac said with a fake smile and silence descended over the table for a moment. 

Since when did Isaac Lahey talk back? Especially aimed at Jackson. It was really like having ended up in an alternate universe where no one acted like they were expected to. Isaac seemed to remember his place because his expression became blank and he looked away. Thankfully Jackson let it slide instead of starting a fight. Having to put up with Stiles' snark every day had made him less likely to start something at every out of turn comment directed his way. 

"Okay, let's get back to the important topic of what Derek acts like when he gets a text from me," Stiles said, unable to stop himself.

"It's kind of cute actually," Erica said. "How he drops everything to read them and reply. He doesn't do that for anyone or anything else."

Stiles almost kind of preened at that. He already knew that Derek liked him and didn't mind his text messages, but to hear it from someone else just made it feel more real somehow. For the first time that week he had the same stupid grin on his face that he had when he got a text from Derek. 

"I knew that you had a crush on him," Lydia said, pointing at Stiles with her fork. "Why else wouldn't you want to date Allison?"

Stiles spluttered and blushed. "That's not it," he said and gestured wildly with his hands, narrowly avoiding smacking both Erica and Isaac's faces. "I'm not gay and Derek and I are just friends."

"You're definitely not straight, though," Danny said, looking kind of amused. 

"Oh my god, did everyone else know that before me?" Stiles asked.

"Yes," Boyd said, surprising them all into silence again.

Then Allison started giggling and soon everyone at the table where either laughing or smirking. Stiles buried his face in his hands to hide his embarrassment. 

"I hate all of you," he muttered. "So very, very much."

"No, you don't," Erica said. "Who else would give you information about Derek?"

"He's really not going to be happy with you," Isaac warned her and Erica shrugged before getting up from her seat.

"Well, this had been lovely, we must do it again sometime," she said and then walked away as suddenly as she had appeared with Isaac and Boyd scrambling to follow her.

"That was odd," Lydia said and Stiles had to agree with her. 

The rest of the school week was pretty normal, aside from Stiles' restlessness. His friends didn't question it anymore as they all attributed it to the fact that he hadn't talked to Derek in a while. Though he did get a text from Derek Wednesday evening, telling him to ignore everything Erica said. Which, fat chance of that happening, and it meant that Derek had seen or at least talked to Erica, Isaac or Boyd somehow and Stiles tried really hard not to feel jealous about that. Actually, Derek was probably staying with Isaac again since Stiles had forbidden him from sleeping in the Hale house ruin, so Stiles should be happy about that. 

Sheriff Stilinski worked the late shift that weekend. That was good because then Stiles wouldn't have to sneak out or explain to his dad where he was going. It was bad because his dad would inevitably notice just how high strung he was that day. Which was why on Saturday morning, Stiles was trying to come up with a reason that'd let him be away from home all day but not be around people. 

He'd barely slept all night and yet he was buzzing with energy. By the end of the day he'd probably be a nervous wreck and too tired to think straight. He probably shouldn't add caffeine to that, but he had a feeling that that's what he'd end up doing. 

Stiles was still in bed even though he'd been awake for hours after waking up from just an hour or so of sleep. He just couldn't come up with a good enough reason to not be around his dad for most of the day. Maybe he could say that he was going to hang out with one of his friends, but then he'd probably get stuck doing that. Being around people really wasn't a good idea right now. He wouldn't be able to stay in bed all day either. 

Actually, maybe he could. If his dad thought that he wasn't feeling well, he could say in his room all day and maybe try to find more information about werewolves. Information that sounded like it could be actual truth and not just myths. Honestly it would probably all sound like myth because that was what it was supposed to be. 

If by any chance the werewolf that had attacked Scott was still out there and decided to attack Stiles, what was he going to do? Shoot it with a silver bullet? He didn't exactly have access to a gun and definitely not to any silver bullets. Wolfsbane was a bit more possible to get perhaps, but what was he going to do with it? Throw it at the werewolf while it maimed him? Hopefully there was some info about other weaknesses that a werewolf might have. Otherwise he would just have to wing it and hope that either the good werewolves had taken care of it, or that the hunters had. 

Stiles wondered if werewolves had any control over themselves at all during the full moon, or if it was a lock themselves up type of scenario if they didn't want to hurt anyone. Maybe Derek locked himself up in chains or something at the ruins of the Hale house and that's why there were claw marks on the floor. 

There were too many questions running through Stiles' head and they weren't helping his nerves at all. He wished that he could just go to Derek and ask him about it, but either Derek would probably lie to him if he was a werewolf or, if he wasn't, think that Stiles was insane. Stiles was just too much of a coward to risk it and he didn't want to lose Derek, who had rapidly become one of the most important people in his life. He groaned and rolled around in bed, burying his face in his pillow. 

The next thing he knew, his dad was knocking on the door, asking, "Are you planning on ever getting out of bed, kiddo?"

Stiles looked blearily at the sheriff. "Yeah, no, I don't know. Why?"

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon, son," Sheriff Stilinski said, his expression a mix between amusement and worry. "I've already knocked on your door a few times since noon, but every time you fall back asleep and apparently forget about the previous times."

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just not feeling that great," Stiles said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

"And this has nothing to do with you staying awake all night to do whatever it is you do on your computer?"

"No," Stiles said quickly. "Well, maybe partially. I feel kind of weird somehow."

Sheriff Stilinski entered Stiles' bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling Stiles' forehead with the back of his hand. "You don't have a fever at least. You think you can come downstairs to eat something? That'll probably make you feel better."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, dad. Did you get any sleep?"

"Since I didn't have a teenager running through the house with the grace of an elephant, I actually slept until noon."

"I've got more grace than an elephant," Stiles said, acting offended. 

"I'd say less actually," Sheriff Stilinski said with a smile and patted Stiles' shoulder before standing up. "I'll go make us some sandwiches. Come downstairs once you're ready."

Stiles dragged himself out of his bed after a couple of more minutes and went to take a shower. He didn't try to keep his mind blank because that would never work. Instead he did his best to focus on thinking about something that wouldn't lead him to think about what he'd do in a few hours time. He ended up thinking about his math homework. It wasn't the most fun thing to think about but it did the job pretty well. 

Being around his dad for a few hours didn't turn out to be such a challenge after all. Though Stiles was a complete mess, his dad just attributed it to Stiles' messed up sleep schedule and the weird feeling he'd mentioned upon waking up. 

Plus, the sheriff was a ruthless man who coerced Stiles into doing the laundry and clean his room a bit though he wasn't feeling well. At least it gave him something to do and it actually helped him feel a bit less worried. He'd never tell his dad that, though, because it'd only make him smug. Stiles was the only one who was ever allowed to be smug about something. 

It was much worse when the sheriff had to go to work at seven in the evening. They ate dinner and washed the dishes together, but then Sheriff Stilinski had to go. Stiles wanted to pull him into a hug and tell him to be careful, but that would only make him suspicious. Instead he had to settle for a wave and a weak smile before his dad stepped outside the door. The sound of the door closing felt a bit ominous to Stiles. At least the sheriff didn't have any business out in the preserve, so he probably wouldn't run into any possible werewolves. Or so Stiles hoped. 

Stiles had decided to wait with leaving the house until at least a couple of hours had passed since Sheriff Stilinski went to work. Then it would be dark enough so no one would see him that clearly unless he walked right under a streetlight. He didn't want anyone to spot him and possibly ask his dad what he was doing out walking on a Saturday night. Not that walking was forbidden, but it'd be better if the sheriff thought that he was at home. 

He didn't research any werewolf lore after all. If he read about the things that werewolves supposedly could do, he'd probably become too freaked out to go through with his plan. He owed it to both Scott and himself to do this, and in a way he supposed that he also owed it to Allison. If werewolves ended up being real after all, he guessed that he'd have to tell her. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea, though, if she was actually a part of a family that hunted werewolves. He wasn't the one with an obligation to tell her anything so perhaps it'd be better to keep it to himself. 

In the end he only waited about an hour and a half after his dad left for work. He'd idly watched a cooking show while sprawled out on the couch, trying not to drive himself insane with the nerves he was feeling. Finally he switched off the TV and ran up the stairs to his room. 

He put on one of his warmer hoodies over the three layers of shirts he was wearing since it'd probably be cold outside. The fact that the hoodie happened to be red was kind of ironic, but Scott had been wearing a red hoodie the night he died. Maybe it was bad luck to be wearing a hoodie of the same color, but it only made him feel closer to Scott somehow and he needed to in able to have courage enough to do this. 

Once Stiles had made sure that he had his cell phone and his keys, he headed back downstairs to leave the house. He wouldn't take his jeep because it was very recognizable and he didn't want to get noticed. There was somewhere he needed to go before heading to the preserve. The way there was so familiar to him that he could've walked there in his sleep, but now every step felt heavy. He hadn't been there in all of the weeks since school started. 

The McCall house looked exactly like Stiles remembered it. Not that it was surprising since it really hadn't been that long since he'd been there, but it felt strangely distant and yet too close at the same time. He stopped in his tracks just when he was about to start his climb to get to Scott's window. 

The night Scott had died there hadn't been a full moon. Why hadn't Stiles really taken the time to think about that before? That meant that werewolves could shift independently on the moon, so perhaps the whole full moon thing was bullshit after all. He couldn't stop now, though, so he climbed onto the roof outside of Scott's window. The window's lock was broken which meant that it was easy for Stiles to get the window to open. It really wasn't safe and Mrs. McCall should do something about it but right now Stiles was thankful for it. 

Scott's room looked almost exactly like the last time Stiles had been there, including the mess. Clothes were strewn across the floor and the bed was unmade. It looked like Mrs. McCall either hadn't been able to touch anything because it hurt too much, or she hadn't entered the room at all. Luckily she was probably at work because her car hadn't been on the driveway, so Stiles didn't have to bother with being silent. He wasn't that stealthy to begin with and now he had the added disadvantage of not being able to breathe properly. Both because of the exertion of climbing and because of the pain of being in Scott's room, knowing that Scott would never be there again.

He took a moment to just look around the room, paying attention to small details that he hadn't really cared to notice before. At least not to the point of actually thinking about them and wondering what significance they had to Scott. It was strange, thinking about how people filled their rooms with little things that lost all their meaning once their owners died. No one would be able to see a postcard or a CD and know exactly what they had meant to the person who owned them before they passed away. 

Stiles shook his head to get rid of his depressing and weirdly philosophical thoughts. He then looked around the room for what he'd gone there for in the first place. When he found it, he wrapped his hand around it and felt the weight of it. It would make a pretty good weapon. He thought of the irony that Scott had grabbed this baseball bat as a weapon against Stiles who he'd thought had been a predator. They should've brought it with them to the preserve. Maybe it would have saved him.

Seeing as he didn't have a key and wouldn't be able to lock the door behind him, Stiles had to leave the same way he'd entered. He threw the bat down on the ground first before carefully climbing down. It would be stupid to fall and break a leg or something. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did something so idiotic and missed out on his kind of equally as stupid plan. 

He began his trek to the preserve, keeping to not as populated streets so no one would wonder why a guy was taking a walk with a baseball bat. Maybe they'd just assume that he was going to play baseball, but it'd be far more likely to assume that he was on his way to vandalize something. No one played baseball in Beacon Hills anyway, not anyone with self respect. Everyone knew that lacrosse was the only sport that really mattered there.

By the time Stiles reached the forest, his heart was beating so fast and loud that it felt like people several blocks away would be able to hear it. He realized that he'd completely forgotten about bringing a flashlight. Cursing softly to himself, he managed to trip over a tree root almost right away. The moon really was full, though, and it did a pretty good job of spreading light even through the tree branches. If it got too dark he could always use his phone to light the way at least a little bit. 

His breathing felt incredibly loud to his ears, just like his heartbeat, and it didn't exactly help him with calming down. Every dry leaf or twig under his feet crunched loudly and he suddenly understood the fear of every character in a horror movie ever. Even though he tried to convince himself that this was ridiculous, werewolves weren't real and he'd been completely fine in the woods during the night when he'd left Lydia's party, everything just seemed so much scarier now. 

"I'm just taking a nice little walk armed with a baseball bat," Stiles mumbled to himself. "Nothing is going to happen and I'll feel stupid and go home. Life is just normal and pointless and there's no such thing as werewolves."

He walked in the direction of the Hale house. It wasn't certain that Derek or anyone else would be there but it still felt like the way to go. If nothing else, at least the area around it was familiar to Stiles and he wouldn't get lost. The preserve actually was quite big, and if he got lost he'd have to call his dad or someone else and try to explain what he was doing there. It just didn't seem alluring to him at all. 

Every sound in the forest around him made him jump. Then he had to laugh to himself but even his laugh sounded weak and nervous. Wind made the leaves rustle and what were probably forest animals made twigs snap deeper in the woods. The eerie silence when the wind stopped blowing and nothing moved was almost worse, though. It felt foreboding, just like in the movies when the music suddenly stopped and you could only hear the characters breathing. 

Everything was still and quiet and Stiles stopped walking because he got a really bad feeling. Not just the previous bad feeling he'd had about things in general, but a very specific one. It felt like someone was watching him. Perhaps the best thing would be to keep walking as if he hadn't noticed anything, but he had noticed and he was scared. He wasn't ashamed of admitting it because come on, who wouldn't be scared?

Stiles gripped the baseball bat tighter and tried to keep his breathing calm and quiet. A twig snapped behind him and he spun around just in time for hearing the swishing sound of an arrow flying past him. It embedded itself in a tree next to him and exploded in a light that hurt his eyes a bit. He blinked but he couldn't see much since the light had made it harder for him to see in the dark. 

The situation was very bad, though, and he definitely had to get away. He started running in the direction opposite to the one the arrow had come from, hoping that he wouldn't run into a tree or trip on a root. The steps of someone running behind him reached his ears through the sound of his own heavier and clumsier ones. At least he thought he heard them but he couldn't be sure. 

It felt like he'd been running for ages, but it had probably only been less than a minute, when he saw the hulking silhouette of the ruin between the trees. He felt brief relief for some unknown reason before he felt a burning pain in his thigh and he cried out and stumbled and fell. The baseball bat dropped from his hand and rolled away. He whimpered as he reached for it, wanting it to defend himself from his attacker. 

There was no time to think about who it was or why. All he could feel was the fear gripping him and the pain in his thigh. His vision narrowed until all he could see was his own hand reaching for the bat, and then the hand that gripped it and took it up from the ground. A hand that looked female and definitely wasn't his own. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and then everything went dark. 

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed between when Stiles blacked out and when he regained consciousness. His head hurt like a bitch and he probably had a mild concussion at least. That was his first thought before what had happened came back to him. He moved and realized that he couldn't, at least not much, because his hands and feet were bound. His hands were tied behind his back and he sat on a seriously uncomfortable chair. When he tried to struggle against whatever he was bound with, his thigh burned again and reminded him of why he'd fallen in the first place. 

Slowly he opened his eyes, squinting against the sharp light of a flashlight aimed right at him. He hissed as it worsened his headache but once his eyes had adjusted to the light he hissed for an entirely different reason.

"What the fuck?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

Kate Argent smirked at him and raised her eyebrow. "You're finally awake," she said. "I thought I was going to have to wait all night. I probably wouldn't have treated you so roughly if I'd known you were human."

"What else would I be?" Stiles asked, thinking that it was better to play unknowing. If werewolves being real was all in her head, he didn't want to make it seem like he thought that it was real too. 

"Oh, baby," Kate said with fake concern. "He hasn't told you? Then maybe he has learned a bit since I first met him. But he's still an idiot."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stiles said even though he knew that she was talking about Derek. "Do you know who's an idiot? You are. You've injured and kidnapped the sheriff's son. How well do you think that's going to work out for you?"

Kate laughed and the sound was chilling. "By the time I'm done with you, you won't tell your dad about my part in this. You won't tell anyone."

Stiles was really starting to get scared now. She really was insane. What if she killed him? He focused on breathing slowly because panicking now would be of no help at all. If he stayed calm he might still have a chance. Maybe he could somehow talk himself out of the situation. Probably not, but at least he might be able to stall her until someone came to find them. He hadn't told anyone where he was going, but if Mr. Argent was aware of how crazy she was he would follow her, right? 

Except maybe it was a family wide craziness that just didn't reach Allison, because Stiles had seen Mr. Argent in the woods with a crossbow before. He hadn't shot Stiles or anything but he'd definitely seemed threatening. Talking about getting shot, that must be why Stiles' thigh hurt. Kate had shot him in the thigh with a fucking arrow. 

"You're a crazy bitch," Stiles said before he could stop himself. That probably wasn't the best thing to say to someone who would probably kill him before the night was over. 

Kate's expression hardened and she put the flashlight down on the floor next to the crossbow that Stiles just now noticed. Instead she hefted the baseball bat in her hand. Scott's baseball bat. 

"This should have been my clue that you're human," she said. "They don't really have to bother with weapons like these. It doesn't matter if you're human, though, because you're still going to bring him to me."

"I'm not bringing anyone to you." 

"Oh, but you are." Kate fished Stiles' cell phone out of her own pocket, waving it in front of his face with a triumphant smile. "I've already sent him a message." She looked at the screen. "'Got your boy, come and get him. Love, Kate.' That should make him come running. You see, my brother told me that you seem... precious to him. I had no idea that Derek goes for veal now." 

"Better than going for an ugly old cow," Stiles spat out and Kate laughed again, patting his cheek in the most condescending way possible. 

"Aren't you just adorable? I guess I can see why he'd like you. He always did like people with a bit of... fire." Kate backed away from Stiles, resting the bat across her shoulder. "That's why this was such a perfect way for his family to end." She gestured at the burnt out shell of a room that they were in. 

Stiles had already had his suspicions about Kate being the one to set the fire, but now he was pretty much completely positive. Her glee was that of someone who had caused something and liked it, not that of someone who'd just been a bystander. She was actually some kind of psychopath. Stiles felt sick to his stomach and it wasn't just nausea caused by his concussion. 

"He's not going to come for me," Stiles said, feeling like he was possibly telling the truth. "He's not stupid. How do you know that he's not going to call the cops?"

"You're wrong," Kate said with an almost sweet smile that only caused Stiles to shudder. "He is going to come for you and he's not going to involve anyone else. He's one of those caring, noble people." She laughed and began walking in a slow circle around the chair that Stiles was sitting on. "He certainly seems to care about you. That's why I thought that you'd be like him. Oh well, I can't be right about everything."

"I'm pretty sure you're not right about anything. At least you don't do anything that's right."

"Sweetie, you won't be saying things like that once the night is over and you know the truth about everything, including your boyfriend."

"I know that you dated him when he was my age and that you killed practically his entire family in a fire," Stiles said, digging his nails into his palms. "And I know that nothing can ever justify something like that. You truly are an insane bitch."

Kate stopped circling around the chair and crouched down in front of him, looking at him with a serious expression. "You don't have to be insane to be a killer, you just need a reason. All it takes is a little push." 

She reached out and pushed at Stiles' chest, making the chair tilt backwards and almost topple over. He managed to keep it upright by leaning forward though it caused strain on his shoulders. The front legs of the chair connected with the ground with a thud and the vibrations went up to his head. He winced at the sharp pain and then glared at Kate, spitting at her face. Her expression hardened again as she wiped spit from her face and stood up. 

"I'm not the bad guy here, Stiles," she said and Stiles laughed mirthlessly. 

"Funny, I don't see anyone else who's shot me in the thigh with an arrow and tied me to a chair in the ruin of a house they burned down. If you're not the bad guy, you're sure as hell doing a brilliant job of imitating one."

"You'll understand once your boyfriend gets here. I would've thought that he'd be here by now. Of course I didn't tell him where I was keeping you but I thought he'd figure it out soon enough." She shrugged and grabbed the crossbow from the floor before sauntered towards what Stiles supposed was the door opening, out of his line of sight. "You should get some rest until he gets here; I want you to have plenty of energy for the big finale."

"He won't go along with your insane scheme and he's not my boyfriend!" Stiles yelled after Kate but she didn't reply and soon he couldn't hear her steps anymore. 

The pain in his thigh and his head seemed to worsen as soon as he was alone. Now he didn't have the anger or adrenaline to mask the pain. He slumped down as much as he could while being tied to the chair. Kate had left the flashlight on the floor so he had light enough to check out his thigh. A piece of cloth was tied high up on his thigh to stem the blood loss. She must have pulled the arrow out of his thigh while he was passed out. If she'd left it in the blood loss probably wouldn't have been as severe. 

Stiles felt woozy and nauseated and his breath came out in short puffs. He knew that he was getting closer to a panic attack but he tried to stay as calm as he could. Which wasn't really that calm since he was tied to a chair and injured and no one knew where he was. With the possible exception of Derek in case if he could figure out where Kate had taken Stiles. According to Kate, Derek wouldn't call the cops. He'd just come rushing in as Stiles' not so white knight and probably get hurt in the process. Stiles didn't want that to happen either. 

He must have fallen asleep or passed out or something because the next time he opened his eyes, there was something cold against his temple and a presence behind him. Since this was turning out to be a crappy night in general, he guessed that the person behind him was Kate and the thing against his temple was the muzzle of a gun. The chair he sat on had been turned around so he was facing the door opening. 

It seemed to be darker than before, as if the moon was already on its way down and couldn't shed light over the room, even from the hole in the ceiling where also the top floors had caved in and gave an unhindered view of the sky. That meant that it had probably been hours since Kate tied him up in the chair. It certainly felt like it.

Everything was hazy in his mind but Stiles thought that since Kate was on the ready, it meant that Derek was finally on his way. Though how she knew, Stiles had no idea. After what was maybe a few minutes, during which Stiles tried to clear his head somewhat so he'd be able to say something witty and scathing, Derek came rushing into the room. He looked absolutely furious and Stiles would've backed away if he hadn't been tied to a chair. 

Seeing Derek like this was a reminder as to why Stiles had thought that he could possibly be a killer. Now he looked at least ten times scarier than he'd ever had before. The anger and hatred in his eyes were so powerful that it seemed like one look would be enough to kill a person. Stiles was lucky that Derek was looking at Kate and not at him. Kate didn't seem intimidated, though, because she remained a solid presence behind the chair and the gun stayed at Stiles' head. 

"Took you long enough," she said calmly but at the same time sounding gleeful. "Maybe you have turned someone then, just not this one."

"Let him go," Derek said, his voice darker than normal and his speech a bit muffled, as if he was talking through something. 

"Now, now, Derek, let's not be hasty. I made a mistake when I shot him, I can admit to that. I didn't know that he'd be so fragile. But tying him up? That is an unfortunately necessary part of my plan. Actually, my plan is now even better than I'd thought it would be. Want to hear what makes it so good?"

"I think I speak for everyone here when I say that you talk too much," Stiles said before Derek could say anything, words slightly slurred. 

Derek finally looked at Stiles and the hatred in his eyes was replaced by so much guilt that looking into them was almost unbearable. It wasn't Derek's fault that his ex was a completely psycho. Stiles wanted to tell Derek that but now wasn't exactly the right time. He might have a tendency to run his mouth and say stupid things, but he wasn't going to insult someone who held a gun to his head. At least not much. 

"Oh, so you're awake," Kate said, sounding so delighted that it sent a shiver down Stiles' spine. "Just in time for my new plan to work. Derek, why don't you tell your precious boyfriend what you really are?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek said through gritted teeth. 

"Wrong answer."

Stiles felt her press the muzzle of the gun more firmly against his temple and he froze. He didn't want to die. Really, he wanted to live and possibly make out with Derek once they'd gotten away from this traumatic experience mostly unscathed. They didn't even have to have sex until he'd turned eighteen, no matter how blue his balls would become once his libido returned to him. Was some kissing added to the cuddling really too much to ask for now when he'd taken an arrow to the thigh? He didn't think so. Only if Derek wanted it too, of course. 

"You won't shoot him," Derek said but he didn't sound so sure. 

"Not his pretty little head maybe, because he'll need that," Kate said, rubbing her hand over Stiles' buzz cut and he would've flinched away if he wasn't so worried about the gun. "He won't die from a bullet in his foot, though. Whose life is worth more, his or yours?"

Derek deflated. It was barely noticeable and Stiles only saw because he was staring at him like a starved man looked at food. Stiles realized that Derek genuinely thought that Stiles' life was worth more than his own. Holy shit. 

Then, after just a few seconds, Derek straightened out, glanced at Stiles and his face changed. He got a ridged forehead, sort of like a vampire from _Buffy_ , and his eyebrows disappeared which would've been hilarious in another not so life threatening situation. No, actually it was still hilarious. His eyes glowed red, which was kind of disturbingly attractive, and his parted lips revealed that he had actual fangs. Not to mention the fact that he was a bit more hairy than usual, and his hands had claws instead of fingernails. 

Stiles realized that he'd been staring in silence for quite a long time, and both Derek and Kate were waiting for a reaction. Probably a bad reaction, but he was reeling over the fact that he'd been right about werewolves existing and that Derek looked freaking awesome. He wanted to ask him a billion questions about it, but now was not the right time. 

His first thought was to admit that he'd already suspected what Derek was, but he didn't think Kate would like that. It would probably be best to act terrified and find out what Kate's plan was. Maybe that way if he played along he could possibly get both himself and Derek out of the situation without any more injury to either of them. 

"What the hell?" he burst out and his voice turned high pitched and cracked at the end. 

Derek flinched and Stiles wondered if it was because of his not so dulcet tone, or if it was because Derek was ashamed of not telling him. Maybe even ashamed of what he was. Stiles really hoped not because he wasn't an expert on werewolves or anything, but Derek seemed like a very nice one. 

"I told you you'd understand once Derek got here," Kate said but Stiles mostly ignored her to try to make Derek to look him in the eye, so he could silently communicate with him that he was only acting afraid. "He's a monster, Stiles."

"What? What kind of monster?"

"Werewolf," Kate said, sounding unbearably smug. 

"Does that automatically make someone a monster?" Stiles asked, not able to help himself. "Because he hasn't hurt me even if he had plenty of chances to."

Derek looked at him again, his expression a mixture of hope, guilt and shame. Or maybe Stiles was just imagining things. Kate circled around the chair to stand next to Stiles, still aiming the gun at him and she kept her gaze fixed on Derek to make sure that he didn't do anything. 

"Oh, but I think that he has hurt you," Kate said. "Haven't you, Derek? I couldn't help but to notice how Peter had disappeared. Chris told me of course but he didn't seem to see much of a problem with it, saying that you'd taken care of the problem, made sure that there wouldn't be any more injured people or deaths around here. He seemed to think that Peter was the cause of everything, but I don't buy that. I want you to tell us what really happened, or Stiles is regrettably going to get hurt."

Derek swallowed and clenched and unclenched his fists, slowly shaking his head. "Peter killed Laura," he said and Stiles' eyes widened. "He was out of his mind, I had to stop him. I didn't want to. I didn't..." He closed his eyes and his face changed again until he looked completely human again. "I'm not a monster."

Stiles wanted to reach out for him and pull him into an embrace, but he couldn't because his hands were still tied behind his back. It wouldn't have been a good idea anyway because Stiles was supposed to be on Kate's side, supposed to think that Derek was a monster. But Stiles had been right, there had been a bad werewolf and Derek had taken care of it. Everything was okay because Derek wouldn't hurt anyone unless he absolutely had to. Somehow they'd get the upper hand of the situation, overpower Kate and get the hell out of there. 

"You were there when he killed Laura, weren't you?" Kate asked. "Tell us, Derek. What really happened?"

"Laura went back to Beacon Hills because she'd found new evidence of who was behind the fire," Derek said, glaring at Kate. "Someone sent her a letter with vague information and a picture of a deer with our symbol for revenge. She wanted to see what it all meant."

"So you decided to follow her and help your uncle out so no one would find out your part in the fire?"

"No!" Derek practically roared and his eyes blazed red. "I would never kill her. You were the one who... I didn't set the fire, you did."

"Oh, but honey, you gave me all the info I needed to be able to catch your family unawares," Kate said with a laugh. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you, sweetie. Have I thanked you for that? How easy it was to make you tell me everything as long as you could get into my pants."

Derek lunged forward but Kate, who'd let her arm rest at her side as they spoke, aimed the gun at Stiles again. Stiles was wide eyed and could barely believe what was being revealed. Even though he'd suspected so much of it on his own, it was an entirely different thing to hear it like this. To see the raw pain on Derek's face and understand that he blamed himself for the fire, for his family's death, probably even for Laura's death. Stiles was sure that Derek didn't kill Laura, but he'd been too late to stop his uncle from killing her. 

"I didn't help Peter kill Laura," Derek continued, clenching his fists. "I let her go here on her own because I didn't want to be here when she found out what I did. I changed my mind a couple of days later. I didn't want her to be in danger just because I couldn't admit to what I'd done. When I got here it was already too late. I heard they'd found half of a body in the woods and the cops were looking for the other half. I wanted to find her before they did so I followed the scent but before I could reach her, I caught the scent of the alpha. I knew that he'd killed her and I attacked him without much thought. It wasn't until..."

"Until you'd killed him," Kate filled in and Derek gave a sharp nod. 

"It wasn't until then that I realized who he was, his scent had been too changed in alpha form. Becoming an alpha was overwhelming, it completely overrode everything else. Things are blurry after that, my base instincts took over."

Kate snorted. "That's what they all say. Such a convenient excuse, isn't it?" she asked. "Tell me something, Derek, did Peter manage to squeeze in biting a lonely boy wandering in the woods before getting killed by you? You see, Stiles, a bite like the one your friend received could only come from an alpha. Only an alpha werewolf can change a human into a werewolf through a bite or, if they react badly to it, kill them. That's why I thought that there had to be another werewolf out there somewhere, because Derek isn't an alpha. He's never been alpha material but, as it happens, he is one now."

Stiles was left gasping for air, his breath suddenly whooshing out of him and his lungs refused to let in any air. Suddenly he knew that Derek had been the one to bite Scott. In some horrible, twisted way it all made sense. Black spots appeared in his vision and it felt like he was going to pass out again. 

"Stiles," Derek said, making an aborted move towards him.

"Don't talk to me," Stiles wheezed out, struggling to take actual breaths. 

"Oh, sweetie, take deep breaths," Kate said and moved to stand behind him again.

Stiles could feel her cutting off the ropes around his wrists and he clutched at his chest. His wrists were sore but they were hardly his main concern. Kate had put away her gun to kneel at his feet and cut off the ropes there as well, but Derek made no move to harm her or run away. He just stood there as if all of the fight had left him and he was weighed down by the guilt that Stiles now understood a bit better. All along he'd listened to Stiles talking about how he felt responsible for Scott's death, when Derek had actually been the one to kill him. 

"You understand everything now, don't you, Stiles?" Kate asked gently as she helped Stiles up from the chair.

His thigh hurt like hell and he could barely even stand on his good leg since he'd been seated for so long and his circulation had been somewhat cut off. Not to mention the fact that his head hurt so much that it was almost enough to make him throw up. Still he moved his arm away from her hands as soon as he stood on his own two feet, or one foot as it were. 

"People like him and his family deserve to die, what I did to them was a service to everyone. They would have killed others if I didn't kill them first."

The Hales had lived in Beacon Hills since before Stiles had been born and there'd never been any murders, never any signs that they were bad people. Stiles knew that they'd been just like everyone else. At least until their house had been set on fire and almost all of them had died. The only thing that mattered to him was that Derek, the guy he was in love with, had killed his best friend. 

"Can you give me my bat?" Stiles asked and glanced at Kate to see her smile viciously. Then he looked back at Derek who looked down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. 

Kate grabbed the bat from the floor and handed it to Stiles. "He deserves all the pain he can get. Don't you, Derek? And you, Stiles, you deserve payback for what he's done to you. He's used you, manipulated you. All this time he's just been playing with you, making you believe that he's capable of love."

Stiles hefted the baseball bat in his hand. It was a heavy, solid weight and it felt good in an odd way. Finally he wasn't completely defenseless. Now he'd actually be able to do something about how horrible he'd felt since his dad had told him that Scott had died. Derek lifted his head to look Stiles in the eye, completely resigned to take whatever pain Stiles would cause him. It was hard for Stiles to meet Derek's gaze and not look away as he grabbed the bat with both of his hands and lifted it, ready to strike. 

Apparently neither Kate nor Derek saw it coming as Stiles swung the bat and it made contact with Kate's head. It was hard to know if he'd be able to hit her hard enough when he couldn't see her more than in the corner of his eye, and he had to move quickly to actually hit her instead of Derek. She fell to the ground, clearly unconscious and Stiles dropped the bat. He breathed heavily and was about to fall down and possibly pass out when Derek caught him in his arms. Stiles braced himself against Derek's chest and tried not to put any weight on his injured leg.

"Stiles?" Derek sounded so confused that it was almost comical. 

"You have to call my dad," Stiles said, not looking at Derek's face. "Call him and tell him that I was hurt and captured by Kate. Tell him that you used to date her before the fire, that she was jealous of the two of us being so close now. Tell him that she tried to turn me against you and to make me hurt you. She'll try to go against us in court but with my injuries and the text message she sent you it should be enough, even without mentioning the fact that she set your house on fire six years ago."

"Stiles, I can't..."

"Don't give me that bullshit," Stiles interrupted. "You don't have to mention a single thing about werewolves and the evidence is stacked against her. Just do this, Derek." He finally looked at Derek's face, glaring at him. "You're not going to let her get away with this and you can't kill her, so call my dad."

Derek swallowed and nodded. He lowered Stiles onto the floor which was actually a welcomed change from the chair that Stiles pretty much loathed by now. Derek pulled his phone out of one of the pockets in his leather jacket and dialed before pressing it to his ear. He looked kind of calm to Stiles but he was probably just pushing all of the emotions away until a more appropriate time. Stiles sighed and lay down on the floor, smelling smoke and something else even more disgusting. Then everything faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a scale of 1-10, how angry are you at me after this chapter? I'm really curious/worried about what you'll think about the new developments.
> 
> I'm currently writing part 9 so there might be a bit of a longer wait for me to update, but I still wanted to post this chapter now. (Also this gives you an opportunity to affect which direction the last chapter will take depending on what your reactions are in the comments.)
> 
> I exist on [tumblr](http://lycanvirgin.tumblr.com).


	9. Part Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this part: Nothing in particular. Aftermath of injury, I suppose.
> 
> I'm taking some artistic license with this one because I know next to nothing about the legal system in the US (or my own country for that matter) or police procedure, but this fic has always been about Stiles and his feelings more than being particularly realistic. Sorry if this bugs anyone.
> 
> I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you for the kudos and the comments you've left. They've seriously made my day more than once. <3
> 
> Expect more babbling in the notes after the chapter.

Stiles knew where he was even before he opened his eyes. There was a very distinct smell to hospitals, one that he was far more familiar with than he ever wanted to be. At least this time he was the one stuck in a hospital bed, so he wouldn't have to see someone he cared about be in pain. Right now his own pain wasn't that bad, though, so they must've given him something.

Why would he be in pain again? What was he even doing in the hospital? All of his thoughts seemed to come in the wrong order, but then his mind slowly caught up with everything that had happened before he'd passed out. Unfortunately there wasn't anything a doctor could give him that would immediately take away the emotional pain that felt like a physical ache inside of him. 

He didn't want to think about what he'd found out and he was too out of it to make sense of anything. Now any hopes he'd had of getting more sleep were dashed, and he slowly opened his eyes, groaning at the dull ache that spread through his head as he did so. 

"Stiles? Thank god, you're awake."

Stiles slowly turned his head and saw his dad sit on a chair next to the hospital bed, looking relieved. "Dad," he croaked out, barely audible and winced. "Water?"

"I'm going to get the doctor and then we'll see about getting you water, okay?" Sheriff Stilinski said, taking Stiles' hand and squeezed it briefly before he stood up. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," Stiles agreed since there was not much else he could do. 

Everything was a bit of a blur. Even if his head didn't hurt as much as it probably could have done, there was like a fog filling it, making it difficult to think. His thoughts were sluggish and jumped from place to place without much coherence. 

The doctor that came into the room with Sheriff Stilinski in tow introduced herself, but Stiles couldn't remember her name for more than a second. It wasn't important anyhow. He did manage to focus for long enough to find out that his concussion was relatively mild, and he'd probably passed out because of a combination of blood loss, exhaustion and shock, and not because of his head injury. That was good, or at least he supposed it was good. 

The only thing he could really muster up any kind of enthusiasm for was the water that he slowly got to sip at through a straw. Finally he could talk without his tongue feeling like a dried out snail. Not that he knew what a dried out snail actually felt like since he'd never put one in his mouth. He was relieved when the doctor finally left and he didn't have anyone that poked and prodded at him, or asked him stupid questions like who the president was. 

"Don't ever do something like this to me again, Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski said and took Stiles' hand in both of his. 

"Wasn't my fault," Stiles said weakly. "Kate?"

"She's in custody. I'd love to give her a piece of my mind but since my investment in the case is too personal, I won't have anything to do with it. Gives me some time off so I can take care of you this coming week."

Stiles wanted to protest and say that he'd be fine on his own, but honestly it would be nice to have someone to take care of him. He'd stay another night at the hospital for observation, and then he'd be allowed to go home as long as he rested for at least a week. Right now he felt like he needed an entire year of rest and not having to face anyone or anything, not even his own thoughts. 

"You'll have to give a statement but I'll tell them to wait until tomorrow when you're home, and hopefully feel more able to focus," the sheriff continued. 

"Derek?" Stiles said, voice almost cracking under the strain of making the name pass his lips. 

Wasn't it strange that he could feel completely detached when saying the name of his kidnapper, but he couldn't say Derek's name without almost choking? Well, maybe it wasn't that strange. 

"He's already given his statement," the sheriff said. "Afterwards he came straight to the hospital. He's been here the whole time, but he left when I told him that you'd woken up." He frowned, looking a bit puzzled at that fact but Stiles understood why Derek had left. 

"He's alright, though," Stiles said, not even bothering with making it sound like a question and his dad nodded. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Nah, I'd rather wait until tomorrow when I'll have to."

"Okay. I love you, son. You know that, right?"

Stiles smiled weakly to hide how touched he really was. "Yeah, dad, I know. I love you too."

Only the beeping of the machines disturbed the silence as they sat there, holding hands. Stiles took comfort from his dad's presence and allowed his thoughts to flit around in his head, not making much sense even to himself. That was fine, though, and better than the alternative of thinking about the things that did make sense even though he really didn't want them to. 

***

Going home from the hospital was a literal pain. First he had to let the nurse take the IV needle out of his arm, which was never a fun experience seeing as he hated needles. Then he had to get out of bed, get cleaned up and get dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, hoodie and lastly a blanket. His thigh burned and he couldn't support himself on the leg, so to his mortification his dad and a nurse had to help him. Luckily the nurse wasn't Mrs. McCall, though she had popped by earlier to see how he was doing. 

After going through the effort of getting dressed, he got to be wheeled out of the hospital in a wheelchair; it was really the only kind of fun thing of the whole experience. Getting in and out of the car was hell and getting up the stairs even more so, even with the help of a crutch and his dad. When he was finally stretched out on his bed, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep even though it wasn't even lunchtime yet and he was still wearing the hoodie. 

After sleep and food, there was the fun experience of speaking to a couple of cops about what had happened, leaving out some details and lying about some, hoping that his statement would match up with Derek's. His dad was also in the room and Stiles focused on the way the sheriff had to stop himself from asking questions and doing the cops' job for them. It was amusing and it kept Stiles from breaking down or having a panic attack about what had really happened the night Kate held him captive. 

He tried to convince himself that the version he told them was true, that once Kate was locked up in prison - hopefully for a long time - he'd be able to curl up in bed with Derek and watch movies. He needed Derek. Well, no, he didn't need Derek because as codependent as their relationship might seem, Stiles knew that he would've made it through the past weeks without him. Maybe not even half as well but it would've been possible. 

Stiles just wanted Derek. Wanted him as a friend or more, and now he wasn't supposed to want him anymore. Derek had killed Scott. Stiles wasn't going to think about that, though, not yet. 

All in all, the first day of bed rest at home wasn't even remotely restful. The second day was much calmer but that was almost worse. He wasn't allowed to do anything that could be straining, which meant no computer, no TV and not even books. That left Stiles to stare at the ceiling, alone with his thoughts. 

Luckily he still couldn't keep thinking about a thing for long, which meant that he at least managed to avoid a lot of unpleasant thoughts most of the time. He was restless, though, which really wasn't a good thing. His dad agreed to let him watch TV the following day if he managed to stay still and rest the entire Tuesday. He was very grateful when Tuesday night arrived and he was tired enough to drift off to sleep. 

Unfortunately that sleep came with nightmares and when he woke up Wednesday morning he felt like crap. He also really needed to pee and it sucked seeing as getting out of bed took forever. Learning how to use the crutch and not putting too much weight on his injured leg was tricky and he hadn't managed yet. By the time he got to the bathroom he felt as if his bladder was going to burst. 

Once he'd relieved himself he really wanted to take a shower, but he couldn't because he wasn't supposed to get the bandage wet. Everything really sucked. He could wash himself a bit with a wet cloth, but it was too much effort and not enough reward. Stiles had managed to get back to bed and had made himself as comfortable as he could when his dad came into his room, carrying a breakfast tray.

"Morning. How are you feeling today?"

"Like someone shot an arrow through my thigh before hitting me over the head with a baseball bat," Stiles said and Sheriff Stilinski looked at him with a mix of worry and disapproval on his face. "Sorry, I'm just really tired of limping around and being useless."

"You're not useless, Stiles," the sheriff said and placed the tray in Stiles' lap. "You're injured. You'll heal and be back to running around, giving me trouble in no time."

Stiles laughed a bit at that even though he still felt like crap and didn't particularly feel like laughing. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks, dad."

"Eat your breakfast, kiddo. I'll take the opportunity to clean the house now that I've got some time off. It's definitely needed, I'm afraid." Sheriff Stilinski sighed and patted Stiles' shoulder. "Tell me if you need anything. You can use your phone so you won't have to shout." 

Stiles nodded and his dad left the room. After he'd finished eating, the day seemed to drag on forever. His dad had promised him that he'd be allowed to watch TV for a while, but Stiles didn't want to use up his TV hours too early in the day. He'd wait until he really couldn't stand just staying in his bed, doing nothing. 

Sheriff Stilinski took a break from cleaning the house around lunchtime to eat together with Stiles in his room. They didn't talk much because Stiles still had more trouble keeping his focus on a conversation than he normally did. His dad's presence still took away some of his restlessness, and took his thoughts away from the lingering headache and the pain in his thigh. 

It was in the afternoon when school was out for the day that Stiles got a surprise. Actually, he wasn't sure why he was so surprised, because normally friends would visit their friends if they'd been shot with arrows and bludgeoned over the head. The surprise should have been why they hadn't visited sooner, but seeing Lydia Martin in his bedroom was kind of like a minor shock to his system. The fact that Jackson and Danny were there too helped in making him sit there in his bed, completely speechless with his mouth hanging open. 

"I didn't realize that you'd also become mute," Jackson said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If I'd known that, I would've been slightly less reluctant to visit you."

"Don't listen to Jackson," Lydia said, daintily sitting down on the very edge of Stiles' desk chair. "He wanted to visit sooner but I thought it'd be a better idea to wait, let you rest for a couple of days."

Danny sat down on the extra desk chair that Stiles had gotten for Scott's sake so they'd both be able to sit at the desk. Jackson remained standing, looking disdainful but Stiles could tell that it was just a cover for whatever it was that he was actually feeling. Stiles also couldn't help but to think of the fact that Lydia was sitting on the desk chair where he had masturbated once or twice. It was very distracting and kind of mortifying. At least he hadn't been naked on the occasions it had happened. 

"Well, aren't you going to say something?" Lydia asked demandingly. 

"Uh, hi," Stiles said and his voice almost cracked. "What are you doing here?"

"We wanted to see how you're doing," Danny said. "We were worried when we heard that you were in the hospital, and then the rumors spread about how you ended up there and we were even more worried."

"I'm fine." Stiles gave Danny a strained smile. "Just peachy. It's touching that you were worried about me, really, but I'm okay. Say, you wouldn't be able to tell me what the rumors involve, would you?"

"People are saying that Allison's aunt went psycho and tried to kill you by shooting you full of arrows," Jackson said. "And that your boyfriend swooped in to save your ass because apparently he's some kind of dark hero or something."

Stiles winced and then had to suffer another stab of pain at the exaggerated movement of his face. "I can't help but to notice that Allison isn't here," he said. "Is she okay?" 

"She hasn't been to school this week," Lydia said. "I've talked to her on the phone and she said that Mr. Argent doesn't want her to leave the house. I think that it's ridiculous; it isn't her fault that her aunt went nuts and attacked you. What really happened? You're obviously not full of arrows." She narrowed her eyes and looked at Stiles with a piercing gaze. 

Stiles squirmed and looked away from Lydia. He'd wanted to deflect the attention away from himself and what had happened, but apparently his attempt hadn't been good enough. He was really off his game and Lydia had a very sharp mind, even sharper than his own even on his best days. It was one of the parts of her that he admired the most but right now it was really inconvenient. 

"I don't want to talk about it," he said and tried to ignore Lydia scoffing at him. "If Allison wants to know, I'll tell her face to face. But I can tell you that it was only the one arrow, though it still hurt like hell and my thigh will never be the same."

"She seriously shot you with an arrow?" Danny asked, raising his eyebrow. "She did seem a little bit creepy when we met her, but she didn't look like she was completely nuts."

"How is one supposed to look when they're completely nuts?" Stiles asked. "Anyone can have some kind of a mental affliction."

"You clearly do," Jackson said but it was halfhearted at best. Still, Stiles could appreciate the effort.

"Well, this has been fun but I'm ordered to rest, and having you three staring at me while I haven't showered for days and feel like crap isn't exactly restful," Stiles said. He turned his head to look at Lydia. "Tell Allison that I'd like her to come see me if she gets a chance to, and that I don't blame her for anything."

Lydia nodded and looked at him with an expression that Stiles couldn't quite pinpoint. He knew that she'd never looked at him like that before. If he didn't know better, he would sort of think that it was some kind of appreciation or respect. That had to be all in his imagination, though, because Lydia would never appreciate or respect him. 

"Feel better soon, Stiles," Danny said with a smile that Stiles could easily return. 

"See you at school, Stilinski," Jackson said. "Don't think that you get out of sitting on the bench during lacrosse just because you have an injury."

"I appreciate you too, Jackson," Stiles said flatly and Jackson flipped him off.

The three of them left and Stiles was alone in his room once more. He sighed and sank deeper down in his pillows, staring up at the ceiling. A couple of months ago he'd never been able to imagine even in his wildest dreams that Lydia would actually one day be in his bedroom. Sure, he'd thought about it a lot, he was a teenage boy after all, but even getting acknowledged by her at all had seemed unlikely. Now he wasn't even that excited about it. 

It did kind of leave him with a warm feeling, though, that his new friends considered him important enough to actually come to his house. He definitely hadn't thought that they would, and it made him think that maybe they took this weird friendship with him more seriously than he'd thought. Maybe he'd been the one who didn't take their friendship seriously, and just treated them as a way not to be alone with his thoughts all the time. They were just like popular dolls that he could play with and receive the envy of everyone else. He was a terrible person, but that wasn't exactly news, was it?

Stiles was so convinced that no one would ever be as good of a friend as Scott had been, and no one ever would, but that didn't mean that they couldn't be good friends. Maybe he should give them a chance. It would be different from his friendship with Scott, but probably not bad because of it. Though he'd let Derek in, let him get close and look how that had turned out. Stiles sighed and shut his eyes tightly. He was tired of thinking, he was tired of everything. Why couldn't everything just be over? 

By the time the weekend arrived, Stiles' head felt like it was pretty much back to normal. He'd also learned how to use the crutch properly, and he could even get up and down the stairs by himself if he was careful. That didn't mean that he particularly wanted to make that trip more than once a day. 

Mrs. McCall had stopped by to change Stiles' bandage and make sure that the wound was healing properly. Stiles was glad that the arrow had hit the back of his thigh and he didn't have to look at the open wound. He hadn't thought of himself as squeamish before, but apparently seeing people get stabbed and shot in movies was an entirely different thing from seeing stuff in reality. Who would've thought? 

Stiles and his dad were eating lunch together when the sheriff said, seemingly out of the blue, "I've noticed that Derek hasn't visited you even once. Your phone isn't blowing up with text messages like usual either."

"Maybe he's busy," Stiles said unconvincingly and his dad looked at him with an expression that kind of said 'oh please'. "I guess he feels guilty about what happened. Since it's his ex that went crazy and attacked me just because I've been hanging out with him."

"What were you doing at the preserve at nighttime anyway?"

Stiles had thought that his dad was going to let things slide, but apparently he'd just waited until Stiles was feeling better. Of course it was too good to be true and the sheriff had been planning a sneak attack all along. Stiles sighed.

"I told the cops everything; while you were present I might add."

"I know you were leaving things out," Sheriff Stilinski said and rubbed his forehead. "I know you, Stiles. What aren't you telling me?"

Stiles looked at his plate and poked around in his food. "It was evening when I left the house," he said. "I was just going for a walk and I went to the preserve to, I don't know, feel close to Scott, I guess." He swallowed heavily and looked up at his dad. "I'm not hiding anything from you, dad."

"I wish I could believe that but I really don't. You know you can tell me anything, son. Did something happen with Derek? Are you protecting him?"

"You think Derek had something to do with my injuries?" Stiles' eyes widened. He definitely couldn't forgive Derek for what he'd done if what he'd told him and Kate was true, but he didn't want to get Derek into trouble either. "He didn't have anything to do with that. He showed up to save me."

"He should've called the police instead of going there on his own," Sheriff Stilinski said. "He risked both his own life and yours by going there alone like that."

"I'm not arguing against that, trust me. Derek just has this whole guilt thing going on which makes him feel responsible for everything ever, and he thinks that pretty much everything is his fault." Stiles couldn't help but to think that he and Derek were very similar when it came to feeling guilt. "You want to know what I'm hiding? I don't think Derek wants anyone to know and it's not really my place to say but..."

"Go on," Sheriff Stilinski prompted Stiles when he'd stayed silent for a long moment. 

"Kate told me that she was the one who set the Hale house on fire. I don't know if she had accomplices or not, she didn't mention that part but I really believe that she was telling the truth."

The sheriff looked at Stiles in shock. "But why wouldn't Derek want anyone to know? Why didn't he tell anyone if he already had a suspicion about it back when it happened?"

"I guess he was afraid," Stiles said with a shrug. "And as I said, he's got the whole guilt thing going for him. They were in a relationship six years ago and I guess he told her about when his entire family would be gathered. I think he blames himself for what happened, just like he blames himself for what happened to me."

Sheriff Stilinski was silent for a long while and he dragged a hand over his face, looking shocked and appalled. Now when Stiles thought about it again, he realized how fucked up it actually was. He'd been too dazed and overwhelmed to really understand how awful the situation was, and how much Derek had gone through. He held himself responsible for his entire family's death, and he'd had to kill his last remaining relative because Peter had gone insane and killed Laura. How could someone go through that and have any kind of sanity left in them? 

"I'm going to have to talk to Derek about this," the sheriff said at last. 

"But dad, he'll know that I was the one to tell you," Stiles said. "He didn't want anyone to know about his relationship with Kate at all, but he had to tell you because of what happened."

"Stiles, I don't have a choice, this is serious. I'm going to the station in a bit to check in on things, and then I'm going to call Derek and ask him to come talk to me." Sheriff Stilinski looked at Stiles with a searching expression. "You don't blame Derek for what happened, do you? That's not why you're so reluctant to talk about him or what happened?"

"No, it wasn't his fault." At least what had happened to Stiles wasn't Derek's fault, but Scott? That was another matter entirely. 

Stiles had lost his appetite during their conversation and he pushed his plate away, even though there was quite a lot of food left on it. Everything was a complete mess and he didn't know how anything could turn out okay again. Maybe the Argents really were a family of werewolf hunters and would find a way to kill Derek as revenge. Though if anyone deserved revenge it was Derek, even Stiles thought so. 

He sighed and leaned his head in his hands, wishing that his brain could just shut up for a moment. The headache was returning, even if it wasn't as bad as it had been at the beginning of the week. He wanted to stop thinking about Kate and the fact that maybe Derek would get killed, and he didn't want to think at all about how Derek had killed his best friend. 

"Are you okay, son?" Sheriff Stilinski asked and put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just tired," Stiles said, sighing again. "I'll be fine. This is just a bit much, I guess."

"When you go back to school, I want you to start having regular meetings with the guidance counselor. You need someone to talk to, someone professional. I should have suggested it right away after... after Scott, but I didn't want to push you."

Stiles looked up at his dad. "I don't need to talk to anyone," he said. "I'm fine, I'll be fine. I've been totally okay without it so far."

The sheriff raised an eyebrow at Stiles. "I think we both know that you're not exactly fine. You don't have to talk to them, but you are going to have regular meetings with them whether you like it or not. It's either you go see the guidance counselor, or I'm going to have to find a psychologist for you."

"Fine," Stiles muttered, not at all happy about it even if his dad did kind of have a point.

"I'm going to the station now," Sheriff Stilinski said, patting Stiles' shoulder before he got up from his seat. "You'll be alright on your own, won't you? I won't be gone long."

Stiles nodded even though he knew that his dad would probably end up being away for several hours. It was hard getting the sheriff to leave his job, and Stiles was surprised that he'd lasted being away from it for almost an entire week. He'd probably called his deputies every night while Stiles was passed out, come to think of it. 

"You stay out of trouble, Stiles," was the sheriff's parting words before he walked out the door. 

"Yeah, definitely going to stay out of trouble for the rest of my life now," Stiles mumbled to himself, but he knew that he'd probably get into trouble within another week. 

His TV ban had pretty much been entirely lifted, so he grabbed his crutch and ventured into the living room. He had a fleeting thought about washing the dishes, but he still couldn't put his entire weight on his injured leg and he did have a small headache. Actually, for once his dad would probably be more upset than happy if Stiles did the dishes, so TV time it was. 

He'd been watching TV for ten minutes and finally found a comfortable sitting position on the couch then the doorbell rang. He groaned as he reached for the crutch and got up, limping towards the front door. When he opened it he almost fell backwards as he saw who was standing outside. He quickly righted himself but winced as pain flared up in his thigh.

"Allison, hey," he said, trying to act normal. "Did your parents finally let you out of the house?"

"I sneaked out through my window," Allison said, looking uncomfortable and unable to look Stiles in the eye. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure, come on in," Stiles said and limped away from the door, towards the living room. "I was just watching TV. Dad pretty much just left."

"I know, I saw him," Allison said. "I kind of waited outside your house for almost half an hour because I wasn't sure if I wanted to see you or not. I mean, not because I think you've done anything wrong. It's just, I'm not sure if I want to know, you know?"

Stiles smiled at Allison, disarmed by her babbling. "Yeah, I understand," he said. "Well, personally I tend to just rush into things without thinking that much about whether I really want to know or not. People sometimes tell me that I'm too curious for my own good. They're right."

Allison bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ear, stopping next to the couch as Stiles sat down and started over the process of making himself comfortable. He gestured at her to sit down and she did so, sitting on the edge of the armchair. She looked around in the living room, gaze not lingering on anything for that long. 

"So, I guess you want me to tell you what happened," Stiles said when the silence had stretched out for an uncomfortable amount of time. "You have the right to know, even if I don't like talking about it."

"I want to know," Allison said and finally met Stiles' gaze steadily, barely even blinking. "I want to know the truth. My parents won't tell me what's going on, and they keep having whispered arguments that stop the second I step into a room. It can't just be about Kate hurting you. Not that there's anything 'just' about that, but I mean there's got to be more to it."

"Do you really want to know the whole truth?" Stiles asked. "Because it's not pretty, and I know that you're really close to Kate."

"I have to know. Just because I don't know about something, it doesn't make her any less guilty. I told you that she's been acting really strange for a while now, she doesn't feel like the Kate I know and love."

Stiles nodded and bit on his thumbnail, trying to think of the best way of telling Allison the truth. He still wasn't convinced that he should tell her the actual, whole truth, but he was also aware of how much it hurt to be lied to. Not telling Allison would possibly just lead to more pain and problems both for her and himself in the future. 

"Before I tell you, I want you to promise me something," he said, making his decision.

"Promise you what?" Allison asked suspiciously. 

"That you'll take me somewhere once I'm done telling you," Stiles said. 

Allison frowned. "I didn't bring the car since I had to sneak out."

"We can take my jeep. It can be a bit tricky to drive but I'm sure you'll manage. I just really need to go there and you're the only one that will take me there, and who I wouldn't mind being there with me."

"Okay," Allison said slowly. "I promise."

"Thank you," Stiles said with a fleeting smile and then took a deep breath. "You know that theory you had that Kate believes that werewolves are real? She really thinks that they're real. Because they actually are real."

"Is this some kind of a joke? Stiles, it's not funny. You promised to tell me the truth." Allison looked confused and upset and Stiles really wished that he had some way of proving it to her, but he was just going to have to try to convince her with his words.

"I'm really not joking and trust me, I wish that I was because it'd make my life so much easier and happier right now. Look, Kate shot me with that arrow because she thought that I'm a werewolf. Obviously I'm not, but the reason why she thought so is because she knows that I've been spending time with Derek."

"So you're telling me that your Derek is an actual werewolf?" 

Stiles nodded and Allison let out a short, mirthless laugh. Her reaction was as good as he could have expected, he supposed, but he really didn't like feeling like he was insane. Because right now he had no doubt in his mind that that's what Allison thought about him, that he was just as out of his mind as Kate was. He'd had more than one thought about being insane since he'd started thinking that maybe Derek was a werewolf, but now that he knew that he was right it didn't feel nice that someone else believed that he was nuts. 

"I know that it sounds really crazy, but I saw it with my own two eyes," Stiles said. "And I'd actually kind of suspected it already before you told me your suspicions about what was going on."

"Don't tell me you went into the woods specifically to find out whether you were right or not," Allison said, looking at Stiles with a worried frown. "I'm not sure if I believe you or not yet, but look at what happened to you. And it was the full moon; if werewolves are actually real then you must have thought that you might die!" She paused and her expression slowly became horrified. "You knew that there was a possibility that you would die and you still went in there alone." 

Stiles shrugged kind of sheepishly and looked down at his hands. "I'm not exactly known for making wise decisions. The night that," he paused and bit his lip. "The night that Scott died, I dragged him to the preserve because I'd heard about there being half of a body there and I wanted to find it and see it. So it's not about me being suicidal or anything like that, I just make really terrible choices. And I had to find out the truth somehow and this was the only way I knew could possibly work."

"You felt like you owed it to him," Allison said quietly and Stiles nodded, grateful that she seemed to get it. "So the animal attacks, the thing that killed him. It was actually a werewolf?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, voice barely louder than a whisper and it cracked under the pressure of even that short word. 

He didn't want anyone else to know what Derek had done, but perhaps Kate would tell Mr. Argent or someone else. Still, it wouldn't be Stiles that let it slip to someone who was related to hunters. Why he wasn't sure. Maybe because they'd probably kill Derek if they knew, and Stiles still wanted answers that only Derek could give him.

"Stiles, it wasn't Derek, was it?" Allison asked carefully.

"No," Stiles said, steeling himself and let their eyes meet again. "Derek didn't kill anyone, not someone innocent at least. There was another werewolf, a bad one. The body in the woods, the first one, was Derek's sister. The bad werewolf killed her and Derek had to kill him to protect everyone. He's protected me all this time." The worst part was that even with the lie and the omission of the truth, most of what he'd said was the absolute truth. 

"But why would Kate go after him if he's not bad?" 

Stiles shrugged. "She told me that she, uh, was the one who killed Derek's family. And she had a relationship with him before she did it. I guess she doesn't really care if they've done anything bad or not as long as they're werewolves."

Allison looked pale and shaken. She stared at the TV but it was obvious that she wasn't aware of what she was watching. Stiles felt bad about having to tell her these things, but he didn't feel like giving her any comforting words. To be honest, he felt a bit of resentment every time he looked at her even though he knew that it wasn't her fault. She'd had nothing to do with it at all.

"I can tell you everything I know, but honestly I don't really want to think about it," Stiles said. "Can it wait until later? I already had to talk about it with my dad like, half an hour ago and I'm tired."

"Yeah, of course," Allison said, still a bit out of it but then she looked at him sharply. "Does your father know? About the werewolves?"

"No, I left out that part for some reason," Stiles said and rolled his eyes. "Can't imagine why. You're the only one I've told about that, but I'm pretty sure that your parents know. I'd really appreciate it if they didn't go after Derek because of this."

"I can try to talk to them if you want me to," Allison said hesitantly but Stiles shook his head.

"Maybe it's better that you don't. We'll just wait and see what happens, I guess." 

Stiles slowly got to his feet and Allison got up to help him, wrapping her arm around his waist. He almost flinched away from her touch but hopefully she didn't notice. She let go of him as soon as he had his crutch in a tight grip and he hopped over to turn off the TV.

"Will you drive me to where I've got to go now?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure. Where are we going?"

"The cemetery."

Allison didn't look surprised, and Stiles thought that she probably understood him better than he'd previously given her credit for. She had a sharp mind hidden beneath all the sweetness and naivety, even if it wasn't as sharp as Lydia's of course. It kind of made him think that Allison could probably grow up to be an even more terrifying hunter than Kate was. The thought gave him chills and he was a bit reluctant to give her the keys of his jeep when she asked for them. She was on his side now, though, and if he kept her close she might not choose to be as scary as the rest of her family. 

The drive to the cemetery was mostly silent. Stiles had to give Allison directions but between that, it was obvious that neither of them were up for a conversation. Allison was completely focused on driving which was a very good thing, since the jeep was probably very different to drive compared to the car she usually drove. Stiles' head was a mess with all the things he'd told his dad and Allison, and trying to keep apart what he'd been saying to whom, including the cops. Then there were the thoughts about where they were headed and what he'd have to face. 

"Do you want me to stay in the car?" Allison asked when they'd arrived at the cemetery and she'd parked the jeep in an allotted parking space. 

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd mind coming with me," Stiles said, fidgeting a bit. "You don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, it's fine, I'll come with you."

Allison helped Stiles out of the jeep and they slowly walked towards Scott's grave. Every step felt heavier than the last and Stiles swallowed several times around the lump that had formed in his throat. Allison had a loose grip on Stiles' upper arm and for a moment it felt like she was dragging him to his doom, when in reality he was the one leading her as he was the one who knew where Scott was buried. They reached the grave after what felt like ages but was only minutes. 

Last time Stiles had been here had been for Scott's funeral and there hadn't been a headstone. He stared at it, barely seeing as his vision blurred with unshed tears. The gravestone was simple, gray with rounded corners and silver letters only giving Scott's name, birth date and the date of his death. It said nothing about what kind of person Scott had been but Stiles thought that he preferred it that way. There was no way of summing up Scott's life with only a couple of sentences anyway. 

"Can you help me sit down?" Stiles asked Allison after they'd stood there in silence for a few minutes, and he was surprised at how normal his voice sounded. 

It was a bit of a struggle to sit down on the ground in front of the headstone without his thigh protesting too much, but with Allison's help he managed. Allison sat down next to him and hesitantly placed her hand on his shoulder. He gave her a fleeting smile and then his gaze wandered to the flowers on Scott's grave. There was a bouquet of white lilies that looked fresh, like someone had just been to place it there. They could be from Mrs. McCall but there was a prickling on the back of Stiles' neck that told him that that wasn't the case.

The wood line was right next to the cemetery and Stiles could bet all of his money that Derek was there. Stiles hadn't really planned to talk about Scott, but he realized that he wanted both Allison and Derek to know. Perhaps it was with a bit of cruelty that he wanted Derek to know, but he didn't think that anyone could blame him.

"Scott was without doubt the best friend I've ever had and ever will have," Stiles began, licking his dry lips. "We haven't been friends for our entire lives, but it really felt like we were. From the moment we became friends, we were inseparable, you know? I dragged him into a lot of stupid shit, and sometimes he was the one with the terrible ideas, but we were always there for each other. No matter how stupid one of us acted, we'd always have each other's backs. Scott was the kindest, most loyal and trustworthy person I've ever known. He was more than just my best friend, he was my brother."

As Stiles spoke the dam broke and his tears finally spilled over. He let them fall without wiping them away, not caring that Allison could see and - if his senses were that good - probably Derek as well. There was no way that Stiles could ever express with words how much Scott meant to him, but he could give it his best shot. 

"We weren't popular, no one at school ever really cared about us, and it was frustrating at times. I had the hugest crush on Lydia for years and she never noticed me. But none of that really mattered much because I always had Scott by my side. I never made an effort to actually make friends with anyone else after Scott became my best friend, because I didn't need any other friends. He was always going to be there, you know? We'd never lose each other. And then I lost him and I blamed myself. It was my fault that we went to the preserve. It was my fault that I didn't make sure that he made it home."

"His death wasn't your fault, Stiles," Allison said softly. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen. It's not your fault."

"Do you blame yourself for what Kate did to me?" Stiles asked and glanced at Allison who ducked her head. "It wasn't your fault; I would've gone ahead and gotten myself into trouble even if you hadn't told me what you did. But you see how easy it is to feel guilty about things because your actions or words had a part in it, no matter how small that part was." 

Stiles couldn't force himself not to feel guilty, but he'd realized that he couldn't keep letting guilt rule his life and actions. It had been a long process after his mother died, and it should probably be an even longer process now, but talking about Scott had helped him understand something. 

Scott wouldn't blame Stiles for what had happened, and he definitely wouldn't want Stiles to beat himself up about it. He'd want Stiles to be happy, as happy as he could be considering the circumstances, and move on. All he'd have to do was to promise never to forget Scott and in a way he'd be free because he knew that Scott would forgive him. It was much harder to forgive himself but he'd work on that part. 

"I kind of admire you," Allison said and Stiles blinked, wiping his face with his sleeve before looking at her.

"Huh? What now?"

"At school you seem so normal," she began and Stiles had to snort and she swatted his arm before continuing, "You know what I mean. Aside from being distracted from time to time, you act like nothing's really happened. But now, hearing you say these things and actually seeing the depth of your grief and guilt about what's happened makes me realize how strong you are. Keeping all of these things inside and just carrying on like normal, I don't think I could do that. Like right now I'm a complete mess over the whole thing with my aunt because it feels like I've lost her."

"I'm not strong," Stiles said, shaking his head. "I wouldn't be able to deal with people seeing me like this. I can't let people see me like this."

"I understand."

"Scott would have loved you," Stiles said. "At first you really reminded me of him, you still do at times. Spending time with you was kind of like torturing myself. Not because you're not awesome, you really are, but it was painful, being reminded of him."

"I'm sure I would've loved Scott too," Allison said with a sad smile. "I'm sorry I never got to meet him."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too."

They sat in silence for a long moment. Stiles couldn't say that he felt any better, but he felt kind of lighter. Finally he'd been able to face going where he'd thought he'd never be able to go, and he'd even been able to talk about Scott. He'd proved that he hadn't forgotten about Scott at all, that he still loved him and always would. Not that anyone had accused him of forgetting Scott, except for his dad that one time but he wasn't going to think about that, but he kind of felt like it sometimes. 

He didn't want to show his grief openly and make himself look weak in front of the whole school or make his dad worry, but the consequence of that was that he felt guilty for not showing how broken he was about it. That maybe people would think that because he'd become friends with Allison, Lydia, Jackson and Danny, he simply didn't care about the guy that had been his best friend for so many years. In fact, he thought about Scott all the time but he didn't want to talk about him with random people. Scott wasn't someone he could share with just anyone.

"Would you be really mad at me if I asked you to get home from here without me and my jeep?" Stiles asked and Allison frowned at him.

"How would you get home? You can't drive right now."

"I have someone I can call and ask to drive me home. I just want to be alone here and I might stay for hours so I'd feel bad about making you wait for me."

"You're sure that you'll be able to make it home?" Allison asked and Stiles nodded. "Okay, I could probably use the walk. It's not that much further to walk home from here compared to from your house anyway."

"Thanks, Allison, you're the best."

Allison smiled and squeezed his shoulder before she stood up and handed him the keys to the jeep. "Send me a text message when you get home so that I know that you're safe, okay?"

Stiles was about to protest because what was he, a damsel in distress? Then he realized that she actually had pretty valid concerns about his safety and just nodded instead. They said their goodbyes and Allison headed out of the cemetery. Stiles waited for a while even after she was out of sight and then turned to look at the tree line. 

"I know you're there and that you can hear me," he said. "At least I'm pretty sure that you are and that you can, otherwise I'm just sitting here talking out loud like a fool. I want to talk to you, though, so you should get your ass over here so I won't have to feel as stupid about the talking to thin air thing."

After a moment Derek walked out from behind the trees and approached him warily. Stiles thought that it was pretty funny how Derek, a werewolf, looked afraid to face him, a human, but he supposed that there was a good reason for Derek to be scared. Despite having avoided thinking about what happened at all costs, Stiles still had some pretty good theories about Derek's behavior during the weeks he'd known him. It would be nice, or not so nice, to get those theories confirmed. 

Derek stopped at a bit of a distance, his hands shoved in his pockets and his expression carefully blank. Stiles could see Derek's apprehension from the way he was unusually tense even for him, and it triggered an old reflex of wanting to put him at ease but Stiles tamped it down. 

"I think you know what I want to talk to you about," Stiles said when it became clear that Derek wasn't going to say anything. "And I want you to be completely honest with me. That'll be a new experience for you, won't it?"

Derek winced a bit at that before his expression became neutral again. It was almost as if he was forcing himself not to feel anything, like he didn't have the right to. Stiles was a bit pissed off at that, because it was so much less satisfying to be angry at someone who was just going to take abuse without fighting back. 

"I want you to swear on Laura's grave that you'll tell me the truth. Actually, I want you to swear on both Laura and Scott's graves that you'll tell the truth."

"I swear," Derek said, seemingly having to force the words to leave his mouth. "I swear on both their graves."

"Have you been hanging out with me only because of your guilt over killing my best friend?" Stiles asked and Derek looked shocked, as if that wasn't the first question he'd been expecting. 

"No, that's not the reason," Derek said. "Maybe it was because of that at first, when I found you in the woods and realized that you were his friend. I helped you more than I'd help anyone else because I felt responsible, but then I was going to stay away from you." He lowered his gaze. "When I was harsh towards you and told you to stay away from me, that was supposed to be the end of it. But I liked being around you, even if it made me feel even more guilty. Any feelings I have for you are because of you, not because of my guilt."

Stiles was a bit stunned. He knew that Derek wasn't the monosyllabic caveman that he'd seemed to be at first, but he wasn't usually this wordy either. If Stiles had known that making Derek swear to tell him the truth would make Derek talk this much, maybe he would've done it a lot sooner. 

"You're kind of a masochist," Stiles said and Derek looked at him questioningly. "You like being around me even if it makes you feel like shit because of the whole guilt thing."

Derek looked kind of amused but quickly sobered and shrugged. "You made it better too," he said quietly. "It felt like I could just be myself, without the burden of what I am and what I've done. I know I didn't have any right to. I shouldn't feel better."

"I'm right there with you, buddy. I've felt so guilty about enjoying spending time with you even though my best friend just died. So we're kind of in this together, which is really fucked up. Don't get me wrong, I haven't forgiven you for what you've done. I'm really fucking angry, actually, but my first thought when I feel angry or sad or whatever is that I want to see you because you're the only one who makes me feel like a real and whole person. Like it's okay for me to feel this way and not have to hide."

"So you only feel like you can be fucked up around me," Derek said with a bitter tilt to his lips. "That's appropriate because I'm way more fucked up than you." He sighed and glanced at Scott's gravestone. "What I told you was true. I didn't mean to kill Scott. I wasn't even aware of what I was doing at the time; I was so overwhelmed by the new surge of power and the grief. That doesn't excuse what I did, though, and it was my fault."

"I think you should drive me home now," Stiles said and Derek was obviously confused by the non sequitur. "I mean, I think this might take a while and I don't think Scott appreciates having us talk like this while I'm literally sitting on his grave." He let out a sound that was like a hysterical half laugh, half sob. "And when I told Allison I have someone who can drive me home, I meant you."

"Oh." Derek looked kind of bowled over. "You're not worried about being stuck in the jeep with me?"

"If you ever wanted to hurt me, physically, you've had a lot of chances to do so. I don't think that you're a bad person, Derek, and that just makes everything so much worse because I wish I could blame you for everything. I wish I could just point at you and say 'there he is, the person who ruined my life, I can just hate him and everything will feel better'. But I can't. Because I don't think that you meant to bite him or kill him and it's really fucking complicated."

Derek looked completely dumbstruck at this point. Stiles wished that the situation were different so he could laugh at Derek's expression because it was pure gold. Instead he sighed and grabbed his crutch. 

"Can you help me up?" he asked. "Moving around is really difficult when you have a gaping wound in your thigh." Derek actually looked guilty at that and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. "Dude, you weren't the one who shot me and you definitely weren't the one to decide that I'd wander out in the preserve during the full moon. That was my stupid decision, and it was Kate who pulled the trigger of that crossbow. I'm starting to realize that the whole guilt complex thing is really annoying, and I know that's the pot calling the kettle black but really, you've got to stop doing that thing around me."

"So you'd prefer if I wasn't at all sorry about anything?" Derek asked with a raised eyebrow and that just wasn't fair.

"Fine, then just stop looking guilty about events that don't directly involve you. Now come here and help me up." 

Stiles held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. Derek ignored it and walked to stand behind Stiles, grabbing him under his armpits and easily lifted him up. Stiles flailed a bit and almost dropped his crutch, but then managed to put his weight on his uninjured leg and gain some sort of balance. 

"Werewolf super strength is an actual thing, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess you could put it that way," Derek said and Stiles couldn't help but to unsubtly lean a bit against him as they walked towards the parking lot. "I would've thought that you'd hate the idea of touching me at all right now."

"What can I say? I'm a bit of an enigma even to myself," Stiles said. "And I can't really manage walking all that well right now so I'll actually take any help I can get. I don't have any semblance of pride left anymore."

They were silent during the rest of the short walk to the jeep. Derek helped Stiles get into the passenger side, and it felt sort of like a repeat of the times he'd helped Stiles get into the Camaro. It made Stiles think about their first meeting and how far their relationship had developed in just a few weeks, only to be in shambles now. He handed Derek the keys at his wordless gesture and then they were on the way home. To Stiles' home that was. 

"Do you have a place to stay yet?" Stiles asked, looking at Derek.

"Not yet, but I've looked at a couple of apartments," Derek said. "I liked the feel of one of them so I might get it."

"Oh, that's good. Living in the ruins or at a motel doesn't set a good example for your little werewolf cubs, you know."

Derek almost swerved with the jeep as he whipped his head around so fast to look at Stiles. He swore under his breath and looked at the road again. "My what?" he asked incredulously. 

"You know, Isaac, Erica and Boyd?" Stiles said. "I assume that you've given them the bite or whatever the correct term is. I don't know what I'm supposed to call them."

"They're my betas," Derek said and glanced at Stiles. "How long have you suspected?"

Stiles shrugged. "A few weeks or so. Don't ask me why I thought that werewolves could ever be a logical explanation for the weirdness, but apparently I was right. I just had to act shocked so Ka... so _she_ wouldn't think that something was fishy about me. Which she did anyway, but not after she found out that I'm human."

"So when we watched that movie with Hugh and the werewolves, you'd already had thoughts of me being a werewolf?" 

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Of course," Derek muttered and then frowned. "So you entertained the thought of werewolves being real, and actually were right about it, before you had any kind of realization about your own bisexuality?"

"Hey, don't judge," Stiles said defensively. "I was completely focused on my crush on Lydia since third grade, so I didn't have time to think about whether I was attracted to other people or not. I'm a one woman man. Or one person man, as it were."

For a moment it felt like they were back to their easy friendship - dancing around something more - but then they both seemed to remember at the same time what had happened. Derek's expression changed from a small smirk to something more tortured, and Stiles bit his lip and looked away. 

The awkward silence lingered until they reached Stiles' house. Derek helped Stiles out of the jeep without even looking at him. That made Stiles almost angrier than the fact that Derek had been hiding a lot of big things from him. He could understand the need to protect the secret of werewolves being real (even if turning three impressionable teenagers into werewolves probably wasn't the best idea if one wanted hide the fact), but Derek not facing him head on now was really frustrating. 

Okay, no, it didn't make him angrier than the secret keeping, but it did make him want to punch Derek in the face. He felt like storming off in a huff but he couldn't storm anywhere, so he had to settle for hopping towards the front door in an angry manner. Derek kept behind Stiles all the way to Stiles' room as if he sensed that it would be a bad idea to try to help him right now. 

Stiles sank down on his bed and let the crutch fall to the floor with an obnoxious clatter. Derek sat down on his desk chair with a lot more hesitance and still didn't look at Stiles. It was as if their friendly interaction before had only made things more awkward instead of better.

"Look, obviously we've both got a lot of issues," Stiles said and rubbed a hand across his face. "And I can't just simply forgive you for hiding this stuff from me, and not telling me what really happened to Scott. I still don't blame you for his death, but it does kind of freak me out that that's a thing that can happen with werewolves. I trust that you've got control over yourself all the time now, otherwise you wouldn't allow yourself to even be close to me, but I've just got to know more about this stuff."

"You can talk to my betas. I mean, Isaac, Erica and Boyd." Derek shifted uncomfortably. "I haven't had time to teach them that much yet, but they can tell you what they know as I teach them."

"So you're not going to tell me yourself," Stiles said and didn't even bother with making it a question because he knew where this was headed. "I guess I can live with that, as long as I'm not kept in the dark anymore. Though how does it work when you turn someone into a werewolf? I mean, did you ask them?"

"Yes, I told them about the risks and made sure they understood them before they accepted. Uh, there were some problems with Isaac losing his control at first, but I managed to stop him before," Derek paused, "before he hurt his dad beyond all repair."

So that was what had happened to Mr. Lahey. Stiles supposed that it made sense. If he had an abusive father and he'd just been turned into something strong and powerful that took a lot of control to rein in, he probably would've ended up hurting his dad too. Actually, it was weirdly touching that Derek chose outsiders that had a rough time and gave them a place to belong. Or it was just easier that way since they wouldn't really have anyone to tell about it if they hadn't wanted the bite, and no one would notice them that much if they did. Except people had definitely noticed the change, especially in Erica's case. 

"Did you ever consider offering me the bite?" Stiles asked the question before he was even aware that he wanted to ask it. 

"No," Derek said immediately and Stiles frowned. "It wouldn't feel right, considering."

"Would you give it to me if I asked for it now?"

Derek shook his head. "It would bind you to me. I'd be your alpha and werewolves are stronger and safer in packs, so unless you found another alpha to take you in you'd have to stay with me."

At first Stiles was a bit offended at the thought that Derek didn't want to be stuck with him, but then he realized that Derek was thinking about him and what he would want. Then he thought that there was a second motive that was actually about how Derek felt.

"You wouldn't want me to stay with you because I have to stay with you," Stiles said and their gazes met. "You'd want me to stay because I want to stay, because I want to be by your side."

Derek looked away and Stiles thought that he could see a faint blush on his cheeks. If Scott hadn't had that asthma attack after being bitten, if he'd survived and become a werewolf, he'd be stuck with Derek against his will. Stiles knew that Scott would have hated it, would probably have disliked Derek because he was sort of the anti-Scott. Derek was secretive and tortured while Scott had been honest and positive. If Scott had survived, Stiles would have disliked Derek too out of solidarity. Now he knew that Derek would've done his best to help Scott, but would probably mess up a lot along the way.

"So, what happens now?" Stiles asked with a sigh. "I've got stuff to work through, and I know that you do too. Leaning on each other worked for a while, but things are different now. Expecting you to be the one to support me through all of this while you've got heavy shit going on in your life was selfish to begin with."

"No, Stiles, it wasn't," Derek said, shaking his head. "You've helped me too, more than you'd ever give yourself credit for."

Stiles scoffed and Derek narrowed his eyes at him before he remembered himself and went back to looking as unthreatening as possible. It made Stiles smile a bit before he sighed again and rubbed the knee of his uninjured leg. 

"I think you should still come eat dinner with me and my dad at times," he said. "Because otherwise my dad will be really suspicious and think that I'm blaming you for what happened to me which, again, I don't. And he cares about you too, you know, or he wouldn't have approved of us hanging out this much."

"Okay, I can manage that," Derek said quietly. "But other than that it's probably best if we don't see each other from now on. You need space to figure things out and to be honest, I do too."

Stiles nodded and bit his lip, looking at Derek with a sinking feeling in his stomach. His feelings for Derek hadn't changed even with the new revelations, though maybe they should have. He couldn't help it, though, and it was confusing and frustrating, and maybe Derek was right and space was exactly what he needed right now. 

It still felt kind of scary to think that Derek wouldn't be there every time he needed him. No more text messages or movie nights, no more comforting touches when he was close to breaking down. It was scary to realize just how much he'd been relying on Derek the past few weeks. 

"Maybe now you can get friends your own age, huh?" Stiles said in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. "Get away from the rumors about being a predator, which would be kind of ironic if you think about it. Then again, you're stuck with three teenagers as your, what do you call it? Pack?"

"They're my pack, yeah," Derek said a bit uncomfortably. "I'm not good at making friends."

"Me neither, but somehow I managed to become a part of the popular gang without even trying," Stiles said. "And I managed to get you. As my friend. So you know, I think you'll be okay too."

"Are you okay?"

Stiles snorted and shook his head. "Not really, but maybe if I pretend hard enough in the meantime, I might be one day."

"I know it's too much to ask but maybe when we've both had enough space, we could spend time together again," Derek said, looking vulnerable and a bit lost, as if he wasn't sure that he should be saying this. "Not just dinners with your dad, but the two of us. Movie nights. If you want."

"I'd like that," Stiles said, nodding even though he thought that they both knew that it would probably take a long time for them to be that okay with being around each other again. "Right, uh, my dad kind of figured out that I wasn't telling him the whole story about what happened, so I had to tell him something. I told him about what she said to me, about being the one who did that to your family. So he'll call you and want to talk about it sometime later today."

"It's fine, Stiles. I'm not upset at you for telling him."

"Will you be okay with talking about it with my dad?"

"Yeah, it's alright. Thanks."

They sat there in kind of awkward silence as conflicting thoughts and feelings warred inside of Stiles. He wished that he was normal, and it definitely wasn't the first time that he wished for it within the last couple of months. Well, considering everything he was perhaps one of the most normal people he knew, so what he really wished was that his life could go back to normal. 

"I should probably leave now," Derek said but he made no move to get up from the chair.

"Yeah, you probably should," Stiles said, not making any move to actually get Derek to leave. 

Even though Stiles had said that Derek should still come around for dinner with him and his dad, it felt like kind of a final goodbye. They wouldn't go back to their friendship, or build towards something more like they'd been doing before the arrival of the full moon. From now on they'd be more like acquaintances and though it was for the best, it still hurt. It seemed like Derek was reluctant to leave.

Finally Stiles made a decision. He took a deep breath and slowly got up from the bed, stretching out his arms towards Derek who looked at him questioningly. Impatiently he gestured for Derek to come to him.

"Come on, man," Stiles said. "Just one more time for the road, so to speak. You know you want to." He smiled weakly. 

Derek nodded and stood up, hesitantly taking the few steps needed for Stiles to be able to wrap his arms around his neck. At first it was a one-sided embrace and they just looked at each other, their faces close enough for them to almost go cross-eyed as they did so. Then Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist so carefully that it seemed like he was worried that Stiles would snap in half if he held him any tighter. The thought was uncomfortable, but Stiles trusted Derek never to hurt him physically or purposely. 

"Usually while you hug someone you don't tend to stare at them like this," Derek pointed out after a moment. 

"Yeah, but I'm not a very usual person," Stiles said and Derek smiled a bit at that.

"I should really go," Derek said and made an attempt to pull away but Stiles tightened his hold on him. 

"Just hold on for a moment." Stiles licked his lips and then, on an impulse, he moved closer to Derek and pressed their lips together.

It was a really bad idea and it was awkward. Derek's lips were dry and his stubble prickled against Stiles' skin but he didn't pull away. Their lips were just sort of resting together and Derek stood stock still, as if he was frozen in shock. Stiles knew that it was a terrible idea and Derek would probably be mad about it, but he needed this last thing from Derek. 

There was probably not a chance in hell that they would ever be a couple, not now and not in the future, but Stiles wanted his first kiss to be with Derek. No matter how selfish it was. Or how gross if he thought about where Derek's mouth had been before, causing his best friend's death. He just hoped that he didn't cause any damage to Derek by following his stupid, selfish impulse. 

With what happened between Kate and Derek in the past, Stiles realized that it could bring up some really bad memories for Derek. He pulled away and backed up one step, falling backwards onto his bed, managing to support himself on his arms so he'd stay in a seated position. A blush appeared on his cheeks and he was too scared to look at Derek. He didn't want to look at his expression and see hurt or disgust there. 

"Stiles, why did you do that?" Derek asked and Stiles couldn't judge his mood just from his voice. 

Stiles shrugged and plucked at a loose thread on his shirt. "Despite everything, I do still like you. I just wanted to know what it's like, kissing someone I like." He paused and bit his lip. "And, you know, someone who actually likes me back."

Derek knelt in front of Stiles and placed a hand on Stiles' cheek, gently turning his head until their gazes met. "I haven't felt for anyone the way I feel about you since before the fire," he said quietly. "Which honestly has made me feel like a creep more than once because you're so young, but I don't doubt your willpower and I know how the things you've gone through have forced you to grow up faster. I'm not in a position to give you advice, or to give anyone advice really, but I still have a few things I want to say to you."

Stiles gave a small nod and put his hand over Derek's on his cheek, feeling oddly comforted by the touch.

"You say that you don't blame me for what's happened, but I know that you still blame yourself for taking him with you to the preserve that night," Derek said. "And I know I'm the last person who should be allowed to tell anyone this, but I want you to stop blaming yourself. Remember Scott, love him and honor his memory but move on with your life. And I never thought I'd say this, but I think you should keep Allison close. She seems like a good friend and you could probably be good for each other. Don't be afraid to let others in because of what you've lost or you'll end up like me."

"Well, then you better work on the letting others in part, too," Stiles said and huffed. "You have baby werewolves to take care of now, and if you don't let them in they're going to turn into little monsters. Teenagers can be vicious."

"I'll keep that in mind," Derek said with a barely there smile. "I'm actually going to leave this time."

"Okay. You better work on getting your life sorted or I'm going to kick your ass."

"I don't doubt it." Derek pulled his hand away and stood up in one fluid motion that made Stiles kind of envious. "Goodbye, Stiles."

"Bye, Derek."

Derek walked out through the door with determined steps and a moment later Stiles heard the front door open and close. He thought that it was probably for his sake, since Derek could almost certainly open and close the squeakiest doors without making a sound. With a sigh he lay down on his bed and covered his face with his hands. What was he supposed to do now? All he really could do was to wait for his dad to come home and then he would take it from there. One step at a time. 

Stiles suddenly remembered that he was supposed to send Allison a text as soon as he got home. He thought that he could be excused for not doing so since he was busy with serious stuff, but he should send her a message now. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he opened his contact list. Allison was right at the top of it but he scrolled down until he reached another name. 

Melissa had probably stopped paying for the phone bill by now, but Stiles couldn't help but to press the screen and brought the phone to his ear. A couple of signals went through before a voice he hadn't heard for months filled his ear.

_"Hey, you've called Scott McCall, if you dialed the number by mistake you should probably hang up now, but if you actually want to talk to me you should leave a message after the beep and I'll call you back. Because I'm Scott McCall."_

A short laughter followed and it was obvious how pleased Scott had been with himself at his lame joke. Then there was a small pause before the beep cut through Stiles' ear, like a rude awakening that he'd never be able to actually talk to Scott again and hear him say new things. Before Stiles really knew what he was doing, he was speaking.

"Hey, man. I was at the cemetery today to check in on you. I know I've been a really crappy friend since I didn't go there sooner and I'm sorry, but this have been really hard on me. I'm sure you'll understand. I guess you're pretty pissed at me for not punching Derek or hating him forever, though, but eventually you'll get around to my way of seeing it. He's not actually a bad guy though he seems pretty grumpy and aggressive. He's just had a hard life, and I know that it's not an excuse for what he did to you but he was literally out of his mind at the time and not himself. We have to forgive him and move on. I really miss you and I wish I could see you again soon. I love you, bro."

The beep that signaled that his time had run out cut through his last words and he rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the unshed tears there. Then he took a deep breath and went back to his contact list, scrolling back up to Allison's name. 

_I made it back home safely; you don't have to worry about me. Thanks for coming with me today and listening to me. And for not saying that I'm insane (to my face anyway haha) after what I told you._

He sent the text and let his phone fall down on his bed. The ceiling looked the same as it always did, only blurrier. His dad came home an hour or so later, finding Stiles in the same spot on his bed. 

"Are you okay, son?" Sheriff Stilinski asked with a worried frown.

"Yeah, dad, I'm okay," Stiles said, and this time he actually almost believed his own words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so this is the end. As I wrote in the notes of the first part, I began writing this for NaNoWriMo last year. It had been less than a month since I watched the show for the first time and the plot bunny attacked me. I really just wanted an excuse to try to get inside Stiles' head for a bit because most of the time I'm so focused on what must go on in Derek's head that I don't really have time for anything else. I also wanted to try to figure Stiles out a bit more. 
> 
> There are a lot of things I would do differently if I were to write this now, when I've watched the show a few more times and seen the episodes of season 3 that have aired so far. But for something that I wrote so shortly after finding the show I'm pretty proud of it. Most of it was written during time pressure, first for NaNo in November last year, and then for Camp NaNo in April and now for the last chapter July's Camp NaNo. Originally I had a completely different outline for it, several different outlines in fact, but I scrapped them all and decided to just go with my feelings at the time. The first outline was way too close to canon for my liking (because what's the point of writing anything that close to canon, simply removing the main character? I don't hate Scott and rewriting canon without him in it was definitely not the reason for my plot bunny).
> 
> It's also the longest fic I've ever written. The longest finished fic I had before this was just over 25k. Quite a difference, eh?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked my first foray into the Sterek fandom and I hope the last chapter didn't disappoint you. Hopefully I'll be back with more fics sometime soon. (There is a possibility for a sequel to this fic, taking place a few years into the future but I'm not sure yet.)
> 
> Oh right, almost forgot to mention: I'm on [tumblr](http://lycanvirgin.tumblr.com) so you can follow me if you'd like.
> 
> **EDIT: If you think that Stiles "forgave" Derek too easily and you can't make sense of his feelings or what the heck he's thinking for the later part of this chapter, I want you to read my reply to the first comment down below and hopefully it will clear things up for you. Thank you for your time.**


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